I'll Try
by Emmithar
Summary: It wasn’t fair, and it wasn’t right, but Greg had to face the facts that he was dying, and that no one he knew would be able to help him.
1. Default Chapter

**I'll Try**

**By:** Emmithar

**Raiting**PG

**Summary**: It wasn't fair, and it wasn't right, but Greg had to face the facts that he was dying, and that no one he knew would be able to help him.

**Disclaimer:** Don't own CSI, don't own the characters, as always.

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**Chapter One: Distractions**

Fifteen minutes, he had been sitting there for fifteen minutes now, one hand resting on the table, the other pressed against his mouth, chewing on his fingernail absentmindedly. He was staring, at what Grissom couldn't be certain, it was just a window after all, a window that looked across the hallway into the trace lab. Pulling his glasses down, Grissom coughed to get the young man's attention, but when that didn't work, he called his name.

It took three tries, and a slap of his hand on the table, causing the young man to jump. "What?"

"The results Greg?" Grissom asked, watching him, now a bit worried.

"They're coming," Greg told him, leaning forward in his chair. He hated times like this, he knew that the results were important, knew that sometimes it was the only possible lead in certain cases. But they did take time, time that some of the members that worked nightshift weren't willing to wait. Then they would wait here, pace back and forth, making it rather impossible to concentrate on anything else.

"Not very quickly," Grissom told him, "especially just sitting there." He indicated with a nod of his head to batch of samples sitting in the chemical analyzer, the lid still open. Grissom could hear Greg swear under his breath as he reached over, closing the lid, and starting it up.

"I could have sworn I started it," Greg explained, turning back to his boss. "I'm sorry, I'll page you as soon as they come out."

Grissom nodded, he would have preferred the results now, but he would wait. Aside from that, it was rare when Greg made a mistake, certainly a mistake such as that. But then again he was human, as they all were. Still, it worried him some.

"You okay," he asked Greg, who in turn nodded, drumming his fingers on the table in front of him.

"Just thinking, about stuff you know, nothing much to do right now."

Grissom sympathized with him, sometimes DNA could be very slow, and for Greg, slow wasn't necessarily a good thing. Greg was someone who was always on the move, always finding something to engage in when the lab wasn't keeping him busy enough. He had become an effective note taker; Grissom let him do so when he had the time. It freed his own hands up, and Greg seemed to enjoy it. The lab rat, as he had been destined, was always eager to help where he could. Grissom believed it was intrigue, or the simple fact that the DNA just wasn't enough of a challenge for Greg.

When Greg had just started here, Grissom was unsure of the young man. He was loud, energetic, and bit on the odd side. But it had brought a welcome change in the place. Even in the worse of situations, Greg had managed to find someway to lighten things up, even if it only lasted a few seconds. Grissom was used to hearing the loud music when he came in, the smell of the Blue Hawaiian coffee, Greg's own special stash that Grissom had helped himself to more than once. Greg was effective at hiding things, but he always managed to find it. Still Greg was persistent on moving it around, unwilling to give in just quite yet. Grissom had also admired the yearning Greg had showed, and still did. At least until the last few weeks.

It had been a subtle change, small things that Grissom nor anyone else had even paused to think about. But it was quite clear now that something was going on; getting a good look now at Greg, he realized why. He looked pale, drawn out. He looked sick.

"When was the last time you took some personal days off?" Grissom asked, leaning against the table.

Greg shrugged his shoulders, "I don't know, last May I think, why?"

"Being in the hospital doesn't count Greg," Grissom chided him, ignoring the question. "When?"

"I really can't remember, but it's no big deal. I take time off, then I have nothing to do, no where to go, and I just end up in trouble. You know, I'm one of those kids that get in trouble when they get bored. There is a reason why they say 'curiosity killed the cat'" Greg laughed softly.

"I want you take next week off," Grissom said suddenly, ignoring Greg's surprised look. "You need the rest, besides, it is company policy to provide our employees with vacation time. You have any idea what Ecklie will say when he sees that you haven't taken any?"

"I'm fine," Greg stated, watching him. "DNA's just been slow," he explained.

"All the more reason to take some time off now. While we are ahead, we don't want you gone when we are overloaded."

"Griss," Greg started, but stopped as his boss stood.

"No Greg, next week, I don't want to see you even near here, you understand? Take some time for yourself, go have a life for a week. This job can be murder sometimes, you're too young to be so wound up like this."

Greg nodded, watching Grissom leave before heaving a sigh and leaning back in the chair. Why had Grissom brought that up? It was only vacation time after all, but Greg suddenly felt as though he had been laid off. He knew he had been making a few mistakes lately, but most of them he fixed before anyone knew, or saw. Tonight would mark the third time he had forgotten to start the bloody machine.

Sure, he had been distracted lately, but that was no reason for his foul-ups. As long as he kept himself busy, he didn't have to think about it, didn't have to think about what they had told him.

_"What are the chances?" he had asked. "Not good," was all the reply he had gotten. _

That was nearly a month ago, he had been avoiding it quite well, but now things were changing. He wasn't sleeping, and his appetite had decreased, food just didn't sound all that appealing. He always felt warm, even though he would shiver throughout the day and night. They were small things, something he shouldn't worry about, but couldn't help it. After all, they were the first signs.

Greg clicked his tongue against his teeth, sitting up as Nick walked in, dropping off several manila envelopes.

"Those are priority Greg, you run nothing else until those are done, Grissom's orders," Nick told him, as Greg looked over his shoulder.

"Exactly what would I run before theses?" he asked, eyeing the empty table.

Nick only frowned, "You know what I mean Einstein, page me asap when you get the results, okay?"

Greg nodded, waving him off as he started opening them. He was thankful, another distraction is what he needed right now. He would have all of next week to dwell on his knowledge, and try and figure out what he was going to do.

**TBC**


	2. Favor

**Yes, another story, I couldn't help myself, blame the plot bunnies. Though if my keyboard won't stop wigging out on me, posts may be a bit slow. Here's another chapter for all my reviewers!**

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**Chapter Two: Favor**

The next week was one of the slowest weeks Greg could ever remember. Being restricted from work, he spent most of time sleeping, and when he was awake, musing on what he could possibly do.

He had already called the lab several times in the last few days, dialing Grissom's office extension number that he knew by heart now, only to find half his calls ignored. When Grissom did pick up, Greg found himself querying almost immediately if there was to be any needed help. He did this for several days until Grissom more or less ordered him not to call again.

Still, Greg was at a loss of what to do. Not wanting to have his work schedule messed up, he continued sleeping during the day, and spent his nights awake, or tried to do so anyhow. He found himself more and more tired with each passing day, even though he was doing less and less.

He ignored the phone calls that came in, and the messages left on his machine. Greg knew it was his doctor, trying to reach him. He hadn't shown up for his last appointment, Greg had missed it on purpose, though he would never admit it to her. He wasn't ready to face any facts, not just yet. If he could pretend that nothing was wrong for only a little while longer, than he would.

That night found he found himself sitting on the couch, zoning out in front of the television when a knock on the door brought him from his thoughts. Somewhat surprised, Greg sat up, glancing over his shoulder at the door with a frown. "Who's there?" he called, not getting up quite yet.

"It's me, Sara, can I come in?"

He had doubted that he could have been more surprised, but a second later he shook off the feeling, standing quickly. A little too quickly perhaps, because he had to sit back down and wait for the room to stop spinning before he tried again.

Moving more slowly, Greg made his way to the bathroom, calling over his shoulder, "Just a minute," before leaving the room.

Grabbing the small jar of foundation off of the counter, he applied some to his face before quickly before hiding it under the sink. He had been using it for the last few weeks now, in order to hide his paleness. He didn't enjoy it, but it saved him from having to answer any unwanted questions. Still, if anyone found out he was using it…he shook his head.

Making his way back out towards the front door, Greg grabbed a long sleeved shirt from his dresser drawer, one that was long enough to cover the belt he now used to hold his pants up. He had lost more weight than he had thought, and was beginning to notice that most of his clothes were becoming a bit too big on him.

Sara was leaning against the outside wall by the time he finally answered the door. She smiled at him, shaking her head. "What took you so long?" she asked as he invited her in.

"Sorry," Greg apologized, "had to change into something a little more decent," he told her. It was only somewhat of a lie. After all, he had changed, well, putting a shirt on wasn't technically changing, but still.

Sara observed him as she sat down on the chair, raising an eyebrow as she took in his appearance. A pair of blue jeans, and a multi colored long sleeve shirt that went past his waist that had to be at least two sizes to big for him. "That's decent?" she inquired.

Greg shrugged, sitting back down on the couch, a sheepish grin on his face. "For me, pretty much yeah."

Sara laughed, shaking her head, "I'm afraid to ask what you were in before." His wide grin caused her to laugh again. "Point taken, I won't ask."

"So," Greg asked, clasping his hands, "What are you doing here?"

Sara rolled her eyes as she leaned back in the chair. "What, am I not allowed to stop by and say hi anymore?"

"Well," Greg started, "For one, I didn't even know you knew where I lived."

"Greg, I've dropped you off enough times to know where you live," Sara pointed out, causing him to laugh slightly.

"True, but you just drop me off at the front of the building; you've never actually seen me all the way to my door."

"I don't leave until you're inside Greg; I've seen you walk through your own front door enough times too."

"You actually wait until I'm inside before leaving? How sweet, I'm touched," Greg joked, provoking a laugh from both of them.

It was then the phone rang, and Greg picked it up without thinking. When the voice of his doctor picked up on the other end, Greg mentally cursed himself as she asked for a Greg Sanders.

"This is he," Greg answered, still mad at himself for picking the phone up. He had almost become used to not answering the calls that came in.

"Mr. Sanders, this is Dr. Mannon," his doctor continued, "I'm sorry, I didn't recognize your voice."

"That's alright," he told her, fiddling with the phone cord. If he pulled it out, accidentally, then he wouldn't have to finish the call. But then he would be left explaining to Sara why he had yanked the cord free from the phone, and he wasn't willing to do that.

"I recommend that you come in for an appointment, since you were unable to make it to your last one. Just to stay on the safe side, you understand."

Greg nodded, but didn't say anything.

Given the silence, she continued. "How is tomorrow, at three in the afternoon, that is before you start work right?"

"Yeah, that's fine," he said quickly. He didn't have any work tomorrow, but she didn't need to know that.

"Okay then, I'll see you at three then," she told him, saying her goodbyes. Greg hung up, a little disheartened. That was why he had been trying to avoid the phone the last few weeks. But his doctor was a little persistent.

"What was that all about?" Sara asked, watching him.

"Nothing" Greg answered, shrugging it off. "Just a confirmation for an appointment that's all."

"What type of appointment?"

"Just a check-up," he found himself explaining, "Just a cold I can't shake. Thought since I have the week off, may as well get checked while I can. Won't hurt any."

Sara nodded, "I've heard that stuff's been going around pretty badly," she told him.

Greg nodded in return, switching topics quickly. "So, what are you doing here, really?" He highly doubted Sara had come all this way just to talk with him on her night off. Not that the idea wouldn't impress him, he just knew Sara too well.

"Well," Sara leaned forward, closer to him as she took in a deep breath. "As you know it is my night off, and well…"

He nodded, indicating that she should finish. She bit her lip before she did though. "Okay, here it is, Hank's asked me out for the night, he had a dinner and some sort of theater show planned, but," she took another breath, "I promised Grissom that I would finish all my paperwork tonight, I'm behind, really far too," she grimaced.

Greg nodded, "And you were wondering if I could do the paperwork for you so that you could see Hank, because you hardly get to see him anymore and he went through a lot to plan everything?"

Sara let out a sigh, standing up. "I know, it's ridiculous, I shouldn't have asked, I'm sorry."

Greg shook his head, "I don't mind," he told her; the expression she gave him caused him to smile.

"Really?" Sara asked, sitting back down. Greg nodded. "Really, really?" she asked again quickly. Greg nodded again, this time much slower, a grin spreading across his face.

"Go on, I don't mind. It'll give me something to do other than stare at that," he laughed, pointing towards the television.

"You take vacation and stay home and do nothing?" Sara asked him, bewildered.

"Well," Greg explained, "It was sort of a last minute," he drew in a breath, "really now, go have fun. I'll have it done tonight," he promised.

Sara smiled, leaning over and giving him a small kiss on the cheek. "I really owe you one," she told him.

"I think that'll do for now," Greg joked, standing up with her.

"Thanks so much" she handed him the papers she had dug out of the bag she was carrying. "You don't know how much this means too me."

Greg only nodded as he saw her out the door, flipping through the papers she had handed him. It wasn't the most exotic thing he had ever done before, but it would keep him busy, for tonight at least.

**TBC**


	3. Issues

**Hmm, unfortunately I acquired four lovely welts on the back of my hand from work today, typing's been…interesting I suppose you could say. Who ever knew mopping could be so dangerous? Anyhow, seeing that a bandaged finger doesn't help with typing at all, there may be a few typos. I've caught what I was able to, but there are those persistent ones that like to hide, so forgive me just this once, kay:P**

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**Chapter Three: Issues**

The week was finally over, and Greg found himself back at work without missing a beat. The lab was busier than when he had left, but still not busy enough for his liking. He soon found himself sitting at an empty table again, waiting for results to finish processing.

He had seen his doctor three times in the last four days now. His test results had come back somewhat promising. Even though it was indeed positive, it wasn't progressing as quickly as they anticipated. That was somewhat of a good thing, Greg assumed.

But there was another matter that had been brought up during that time. He needed money, more money than he had. Even worse, insurance didn't cover him. Mostly because he no longer had any. It had been a shock when they told him this, he was never notified that his medical coverage was dropping him.

Then, after thinking about it, he probably did receive something in the mail, and it more in likely ended up in the trash with the rest of his junk mail. Greg shifted in his chair, leaning over to check the process on the samples he was running. At this point, he wasn't sure what he was going to do.

_Ask for help, _his doctor had told him. Greg ran a hand through his hair, letting out a sigh as he sat back down. Ask who for help? He wasn't about to tell anyone at work about what was going on, he wasn't ready. How exactly did you explain to someone that you were dying? He let out a nervous sigh, checking on the samples again. When were they going to be done?

He clasped his hands together, leaning back in his chair to stare up at the ceiling. He didn't have to tell them what he needed the money for. All he had to do was ask for a loan, pay them back when he could, or even if he could. But who in their right mind would lend someone thousands of dollars without a sensible reason?

Greg shook his head. No, it just wouldn't work, he would have to find another way to get the money he needed. Glancing up as the door opened, he gave a small smile as Sara came in. Making sure they were alone, she sat down across from them.

"Greg, when you filled those forms, what gender did you put down?" she asked, her voice only a whisper.

"Don't tell me I did," he said, his face tensing at her reaction.

"Yeah, you did." Her irritation was evident.

Greg shook his head, tapping the table. "I'm sorry, I didn't even think…what did they say?"

Sara straightened up, "They wanted to know why I put 'male' down. I told them that I had misread the question. Ecklie accepted it, but now everyone thinks I'm a cross dresser, or something along those lines. I've been getting nothing but crap all night long."

"Sara," Greg let out a sigh, "I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking."

"Well, that's obvious. I asked you to do one thing for me, that's all, one thing."

"Look," Greg told her, becoming irritated now, "I said I was sorry. If you can't accept the fact that I'm human, and I made a mistake, then don't ask for my help again."

Sara nodded shortly, "Then I won't."

"Good," Greg answered back in a even tone. The printer beeped as the results came out. Greg was thankful for the distraction as he reached over for the paper. "It's a match," he told her calmly, handing her the readouts. She snatched it from his hands, not even muttering a simple thanks as she left the room.

Left alone with his thoughts again, he tried to recall everything his doctor had told him within the last few meetings. _Drink plenty of fluids, eat as often as you can, try and sleep every night. _All easier said than done. He was never hungry anymore, skipping over his breaks, and only nibbling when the entire shift ate together. To avoid questions he had simply told everyone that a visit to his doctor had shown poor malnutrition, and had encouraged him to eat a large meal before going into work. That excuse had also giving Grissom a reason to why he seemed so pale that one day.

Since then, Greg had made certain to wear the foundation daily, masking his ashen features. He never wore anything that didn't go past his waistline now. There was just too much of a risk of someone seeing, and questioning. Grissom had been close to doing so, too close. So Greg made a point of avoiding his boss when he could.

As far as sleep, it would only come after several days of constant worry, and stress. Then he would sleep heavily, but never really felt refreshed after waking. This habit had nearly cost him to be late tonight. He would have to remember to set his alarm an hour earlier, give himself extra time to get ready on days he did happen to fall asleep.

His pager went off, breaking into his trance. Shuffling for it, he barely caught the message. It was from Nick, wanting the lab tech to meet him in the other room when he could. Seeing there was nothing else to do, and having no excuse not to go, Greg got to his feet, holding the table as a woozy feeling passed over him. It was something that was happening more often now, Greg had gotten into the habit of securing himself before walking anywhere. Once the feeling was gone, Greg made his way down the hall to see what Nick had wanted him for.

**TBC**


	4. Past to Present

**Okay, long chapter, but there really wasn't a place to break it up into two. Though I don't think you guys mind. The long awaited question in what Greg has is finally answered!**

**Chapter Four: Past to Present**

He shouldn't have eaten. Greg knew that his stomach wouldn't have been able to tolerate it. But what else could he have done? Catherine wasn't the type of person who took no for an answer. You could tell that by the way she held herself; there was an arrogance about her, in her manner, not that that was necessarily a bad thing. Catherine had just grown over the years, had sacrificed many things to get where she was now. No just wasn't in her vocabulary.

Still, Greg tried very hard to say no, without saying no directly. Catherine had offered him a ride home, after his car had broken down. Actually, his car had been broken down for a while now, and Greg had been relying on taxis to and from work. Seeing that it couldn't hurt, and that he needed to save as much money as possible, he consented.

On the way to the apartment buildings, however, Catherine had stopped off a small fast food restaurant. When asking him what he wanted, Greg immediately said that he was fine, but she wouldn't let up. Earlier, when she caught him not taking his break, Greg had explained that he had eaten a large meal before coming in. It was when Catherine pointed out that nearly ten hours had passed since he started working that Greg had quickly come up with a second excuse. He had woken up late, and forgot to bring something for lunch, and without a car, he couldn't really go out and get something.

It was a cheesy excuse, Greg knew. And he knew that Catherine thought the same as well. But she had let him be when it was apparent that Greg wasn't going to stop for break. It wasn't unusual to see someone skipping break, it happened quite often, once you were wrapped up in a case, you forgot time.

Greg hadn't been extraordinarily busy, only helping Nick with a case, shifting through an entire bin of shredded paper, slowly piecing a document back together. It was a tantalizing task; Nick often let Greg take the lead on these types of projects. In other words, Greg was left to do all the work. But the lab rat didn't seem to mind. And seeing that DNA was all caught up, it gave him something to occupy his time.

Greg finally gave in as they came up to the counter. He had no idea what he was going to try and eat, the smell alone was making him nauseated. Slowly, but surely, he had been able to finish the meal, despite the fact it was small. The only thing he was thankful for was the ride to his apartment was a short one. After Catherine had dropped him off outside, Greg was barely able to make it to the bathroom.

At this point, he was deeply considering calling in sick for tomorrow night. His fever was higher that night then it had been the last few days, and exhaustion was taking its toll. Aside from that, he had another appointment tomorrow before work; he had a feeling that alone would wear him out.

It was an odd feeling, he knew that he was sick, but that was all it felt like. It didn't feel like he was dying, only felt as though he had the stomach flu, and that in a few days, he would be back to normal. But he wouldn't, Greg knew that was a fact. The last meeting hadn't gone overly well, and he was dreading going in tomorrow. If Greg didn't find some way to bring in extra money, his doctor was going to notify his supervisor. That meant either Ecklie or Grissom, considering on how high of a supervisor his doctor wanted to talk with. Either way, his job was in jeopardy, and it wouldn't take long for the word to spread. Then what? He would be treated like an outcast, like he didn't belong. He had seen it happen enough times growing up to know that the ill were misjudged. Either they were ignored, or so pampered it was sickening. Greg wanted neither.

He would have to tell Grissom himself. It wasn't going to be easy, easier than telling Ecklie, of course, but still just the same. Would it be easier to explain everything, or just tell him the news, and bid his farewells? Greg let out a groan as he laid down on the couch, head pounding and stomach quivering. He would have to go in tomorrow. Things were just moving to fast for him to keep up with, soon the questions would start. He knew that the others were talking behind his back, he had heard them. Accidentally of course, but heard them just the same.

_"Any of you notice anything different with Greg?" _

Catherine had been the one to ask the question, Greg had heard his name as he was passing by, retreating a few steps back. Leaning against the wall, just out of sight, he listened as Sara chimed in her own opinion.

_"Like he's being a jerk all the time instead of on special occasions?"_

There were a few laughs, short but quiet ones.

_"Sara, just because you're mad at him doesn't make him a jerk. What did he do to drive you up the wall this time?" _

Nick's voice was easy, teasing her. He heard someone scoff, and assumed that it was Sara.

_"Seriously now," _Catherine had broken up the small banter. Good old Catherine, she was always able to stop a fight with only a few words. It was amazing sometimes.

_"Different, like new hair style, goofy idea, or another zany wardrobe?" _Nick joked gently.

_"Exactly how can you notice something different about a person when that person is different near every day?_

Warrick had spoken up for the first time. The others agreed.

_"I guess," _Catherine said, _"Just something's different, I don't know what. I can't put my finger on it."_

Greg hadn't listened to anymore, turning on his heal to head back to the DNA lab. He felt so insecure now, it had only been a few weeks since he found out, and already others were noticing. At least Catherine was noticing. He had done well to stay out of the others way that night, until he was getting ready to leave. This is where Catherine had found him, and offered him the ride.

Maybe it was pity, or just concern, but Catherine had been overly nice to him tonight. Not that she was ever mean to him, sure, every so often a harsh word would come out, but that was given, stress was always a high factor in this job. Greg had gotten into verbal fights with the other members from time to time, but no one really took it to heart. They only avoided each other for a few hours; enough time to calm down, said their apologies, and got on with life. It was expected, though not frequent.

It had been two days since he and Sara had fought, so to say, and still the hadn't made up. Greg hated when they argued, Sara wasn't one to give up as easily as the others, especially when she thought she was right about something. Greg figured he would give her at least another day, before confronting her, and try and work an apology out of her.

He slept on the couch, in all actuality he just laid there, his mind burning with a thousand ideas that wouldn't let him alone. Before he knew it, it was time to get ready for his appointment. Still he just lay there, staring at the ceiling. He hadn't really noticed that it was a creamy light tan color; he had always assumed it was white. Greg laughed softly to himself, the things you noticed when you actually took the time to look could surprise you sometimes.

Getting up, and stretching at the same time, Greg was careful to make sure he could walk straight before moving anywhere. He staggered into the bathroom, taking a warm shower that seemed to revive him some, before getting dressed. Greg let out a sigh as he pulled the belt another notch around his waist. He would have to try and get some clothes that actually fit him.

Dressed in a long white shirt, and black jeans, Greg applied the foundation, grimacing as he did so. Things would be so much easier if he didn't have to hide, but he didn't have much of a choice right now. He even mussed up his hair, spiking it up the way he liked, something he hadn't done for a while now. Looking in the mirror he smiled, despite how appalling he felt. It looked as though nothing was wrong, that's what he was trying to achieve.

He still had time before he had to leave when he finished, and Greg thought it would be best to try and eat something now, and see how his stomach handled it. They would make him eat again at the doctors, so if he was going to get sick, he would rather be prepared for later on. After much indecision, Greg finally pulled a small container of yogurt out, glad that at least something sounded appealing.

He took his time eating it, taking small bites and waiting a few minutes to make sure that his stomach wasn't going to reject it, before eating a little quicker. Greg was still hungry when he finished, but decided not to press his luck. Instead he sipped on a glass of water, chewing on a few pieces of ice, something else his doctor had recommended he try.

Leaving, he grabbed his coat, since the skies above where threatening to rain, and headed out to catch a taxi. He would have to find something to do; his 'cash allowance' was getting low. Greg had spent a better part of his time, figuring out the least amount of money he could spend, dividing it up weekly. Without a car, and having to be both at the doctors, and at work, his money was going fast, much faster than he wanted. He was storing as much away as he could, but still, it was a far cry from what he needed.

The visit at the doctor's went surprisingly well, Greg was able to eat a second time that day, and hold it all down. They checked his vitals, and recorded everything down on his sheet, updating him on the latest test results, at the same time, drawing more blood for further testing. All the while promising him that things were going to work out just fine, but Greg wasn't as optimistic. Maybe an average person would believe that, but he was a man of science, he knew all the facts and figures, knew the rates and percentages. And his weren't exactly good, they weren't even half.

Greg knew he had to talk to Grissom tonight, he had promised his doctor that he was going to do so. Greg didn't really see what difference it made, nothing was going to change the facts, but still, if he didn't, then she would, and the last thing Greg needed or even wanted was his boss to find out from someone else.

The lab was busy that night, not DNA in general, but just the lab. The case that the night shift team was working on was a rather big case. It had made the headlines on all news stations. Someone had been murdering children, abducting them from schools during recess. It was a hard one to solve; the only DNA that had ever been found was the victims, so running them through the system wasn't that hard. Not very many eight year olds had a criminal history, so their DNA gave them very little to work off of.

Most of the work was in trace, fibers and such, but nothing new for DNA. Greg found himself working on the document again, his third day and counting. So far he had gotten a partial title, and numbers, lots and lots of numbers. Whoever had this paper, didn't want it to be found again. There wasn't even a guarantee that all the pieces were here either.

Greg frowned as he read out loud what he had so far, "Mar…sol…inc…"

"What is that supposed to mean?"

Greg grinned as Nick came in, leaning to read over his shoulder. "Mar…sol…inc" Nick repeated. "Good work, so far, we have absolutely nothing."

"Thanks Nick," Greg commented dryly, though a smile twitched on his face. He knew Nick was teasing him by his tone.

Nick laughed, patting him on the shoulder. "Keep working; page me when you come up with something more helpful."

"Gotcha," Greg gave him a thumbs up as he left. Sitting back with a sigh, Greg checked the time. If he was going to do it, he had to do it now. Careful placing the partially reconstructed document back in the protective casing, he swept the free pieces back into the plastic container they were using, making sure that no pieces fell free.

Finding Grissom wasn't easy, it never was when you needed him. He had sought out his boss several times that night, but each time he was busy. Greg didn't want to confront him until he was alone, he didn't want to arouse suspicion.

Greg finally found him, in the trace lab, talking with Catherine and the technician who was there. Greg waited for a few minutes, until Grissom left the room, the door swinging shut behind him.

"Griss," Greg called after him; once he was certain Catherine was not to follow.

The older man turned, raising an eyebrow as Greg came up to him. "We need to talk."

Grissom raised a hand, stopping him. "It's going to have to wait Greg, I'm really busy right now," he was already leaving.

Greg nodded, hands in the pockets of his lab coat. Then he shook his head, taking a step after his boss. "Grissom," he called again, waiting till he turned back again. "This can't wait, I really need," Greg let out a sigh; glancing at the ground, then back up at him, "please, ten minutes, that's all I'm asking."

Grissom was slow to nod, but when he did, he indicated that Greg should follow him. It worried Grissom; the look in Greg's eyes was indescribable. Upon entering his office, Grissom closed the door, watching as the young lab tech took a seat. Grissom sat down across from him.

"Ten minutes then," Grissom told him, watching him nod. "But if you go over a minute or few, it's okay."

Greg nodded, but made no comment about his apparent attempt to lighten the mood. Greg was never one to pass up a joke such as that, and it worried Grissom anymore. He watched as the young man drew in a deep breath.

"I'm not really sure where to start, or how to say all this, but I'm going to try. And before you say anything, just let me talk, okay?"

Grissom nodded, concern now his main factor. Greg fidgeted slightly, drawing in another deep breath.

"When I was ten, my father got a job opportunity to work over in Europe, building and designing buildings. We needed the money, my mother was unemployed and my father's current job didn't pay enough to keep up with the house, let alone keep me in school. So when he accepted, the three of us went over there. We lived out of a small tent trailer, since my father always had to be on the move. We lived in parts of southern Europe, until we moved down into Africa. There was a town there that had hired him to help rebuild their town after an earthquake destroyed it several months ago."

Greg paused for a few moments, Grissom thought about intervening, to really see where this was going, but he remembered his promise he made the lab rat. Greg leaned his head against his hand, resting his elbow on the arm rest of the chair before continuing.

"We were there for about four months, when my father started to get sick. He thought it the flu, we all did. It got worse over the course of a few days, but he insisted that he was fine, and that we all didn't need to worry. Then, one morning, he didn't wake up."

Grissom could not help but feel remorse when Greg said those words. The look on his face was held a fixed edge, laced with painful memories. Grissom was beginning to see why Greg never talked about his family.

"Things got worse after that, my mother feel into a deep depression. It didn't matter what I did, I couldn't reach her. No one was able to. We had no money, and the people we had made friends with during that short time were unable to help us. I remember my mother getting sick; the doctor there took her in, and treated her, but I wasn't able to see her after that. I don't really remember much after that, the next thing I knew I was waking up in a hospital, back in Germany somewhere."

"For days, I kept asking what had happened, asking where my mom was, but no one there knew English. So all my questions were left unanswered. I was there for a few weeks, when one day a young nurse came in. She sat down on the bed next to me, and told me that I was going home."

Greg drew in another deep breath, eyes trailing up to the ceiling. Grissom could see hints of tears in his eyes, but made no comment. The youth was having a great deal of trouble telling him all of this.

"My mother never made it. The doctors had found out that both my mother and father had died from Marburg Hemorrhagic Fever. It's a rare disease, I don't even know what the infectious percentage is, but I know that it's low. It's deadly because it is often overlooked as the stomach flu, and by the time you finally do realize something is wrong, it's too late. I was lucky, after the doctors learned that was what killed my father; they took both me and my mother in for treatment. It hadn't been soon enough for my mother, but for me, it was still earlier enough, but not without consequences."

"I was taken to live with my grandparents, Papa Olaf, and Niena," Greg clasped his hands together. "I was taken to for regular checkups twice a year, but it wasn't until I was older that they started to really talk with me about my future. During my stay in the hospital, they had gone in and removed a part of my liver that was no longer operating. I was warned that problems would more in likely occur later in life, it all depended on how my body reacted to treatment."

"My last schedule check up showed that the disease I had nearly 14 years ago had indeed done its damage. My body no longer recognizes my liver as part of my system, and the antibodies have already begun to decimate what's left."

Grissom said nothing, was unable to say anything. In all the time before, when he had wanted to interject his own thoughts he now found himself at a loss for words. All that he was able to do was watch the young man before him, as he tried to comprehend what exactly Greg had told him.

Finally, seeing that Greg wasn't going to say anymore, Grissom forced himself to speak up. "What can be done?"

"Nothing," was Greg's simple answer. Grissom felt as though he had been stabbed with a knife, the cold metal twisting in his stomach. Greg sat up some, still avoiding his boss' gaze.

"I need a full liver transplant," he said softly. "If I don't get one, then…well, let's just say you'll need to find a replacement lab tech."

Grissom nodded, Greg hadn't needed to say what the alternate was. He knew that Greg had been run down lately; he thought it was because the young man had been over worked, which is why he had prompted Greg to take a break. Now things were beginning to make sense. Too much sense.

"How much time?" Grissom wondered. He wasn't sure if he wanted to know.

"A month," was Greg's reply. "Maybe two."

Grissom folded his hands in front of him, just thinking. "Things will work out," he told him finally. "You'll get your transplant, you'll recover. You just need time."

"I'm not a waiting list," Greg said calmly.

This surprised Grissom. "Why not?"

"I don't have the money."

"Your insurance..."

"I don't have insurance." Greg looked up at him, but only for a moment. "They dropped me after the lab explosion, saying that I was too much of a liability."

"That was nearly a year ago," Grissom told him sternly, "Why didn't you say anything about this sooner? We would have been able to get you back on."

"I just kind of found out a few days ago. It was a surprise to me too. My doctor visits are prepaid for several years in advanced; it's just easier that way."

"How much money are you talking about?"

Greg shook his head, "More than I have."

"How much Greg?"

The lab tech let out a sigh, closing his eyes. "If I had insurance, I would be able to pay in small amounts. But since I don't, they want a down payment of 150,000 dollars, in cash. It's sort of an assurance to prove that I can pay for the operation."

"How much do you have now?"

"I've been saving for a few months now, plus what I've pulled out of my life savings, and I'm close to ninety thousand."

"Okay, I'll fill in what you need, just let me know where to get it too," Grissom started, but Greg cut him off.

"No," he said, "I can't let you do that. That's asking too much."

"Not for a life it's not Greg," Grissom argued.

"I'm not going to let you give me seventy thousand dollars. That's not fair for you, besides that, it's just a down payment. There is no guarantee that I will even get the operation. It's just enough to get me on the list. You have all the treatment fees, the operation itself, the follow up procedure. And even then it's only 50-50 that I'll recover."

"We'll figure it out when we get there, but for now, let me help you."

"It's asking too much, I wouldn't be able to repay you. Your money would just be wasted."

"Greg," Grissom leaned forward, "It's not a waste, I can assure you that now."

But Greg was already shaking his head.

"Then I'll call a meeting, everyone would be more than grateful to pitch in."

"No," Greg said quickly, "don't tell anyone else."

"It's not like you can keep it hidden forever Greg," Grissom warned.

Greg nodded solemnly. "I know," he said softly, calming down some. "I'm just not ready for them to know yet."

"Fine, we'll make a deal. I won't say anything to anyone, as long as you agree to let me give you some money."

Greg considered it for a moment, "Okay, but only _some _money. And I'm serious about that Griss; I don't want you giving me seventy thousand dollars. Promise me that."

Grissom nodded, "I promise." He watched as the young lab tech nodded, standing up to leave. "Greg," he waited until he turned around, "if you ever need anything, just ask. Take off all the time you need, I'll cover for you."

Greg nodded his thanks as he left the office, not sure if he was feeling better or worse then before. At the moment, he had a lot to think about.

**TBC**


	5. Denial

**Chapter Five: Denial **

Greg was furious. No, he was beyond furious. All he could do was stare down at the small piece of paper he held in his hands. Printed in black ink read 'transferred from account 3275864321 by owner: 150,000'.

Greg rubbed his forehead, resisting the urge to crumble the receipt in his hand as the taxi pulled to a stop in front of the work place. Greg paid the driver as he exited, shoving the paper in his pocket as he made his way inside.

He wanted to see Grissom right away, but he knew that wasn't the best of ideas. He was too angry right now, he would have to wait until he calmed down some. Donning his lab coat, Greg got busy on catching the DNA lab up for that night. It only took about an hour to get all the samples running, but it would take several for them to finish.

Needing more time to cool down, Greg busied himself with papers again, piecing it back together, little by little. He smiled doughtily as he placed the last piece of the paper for the title.

"Marionette Soldier Incantation," he read the full title, resting his chin on his hand. It still didn't make a lot of sense, but it was a start. He pulled his pager out, sending Nick a quick memo before going back to work.

By the time Nick arrived, Greg had also come up with a time and place. "Marionette Soldier Incantation, Friday, March 7th," Nick mused, sitting down next to him. "At the Rio," he nodded shortly.

"How does this tell us anything though?" Greg wondered, reading the words over again.

"We found this shredded in one of our suspects' houses. Brand new shredder, bought about a week ago. It could mean nothing, but most people by a shredder to get rid of a lot of paper. In this case, this was the only one that had been shredded."

Greg nodded, leaning back. "I don't know how much more of this we have left," he commented, indicating to the pile of shreds.

"Keep working on it," Nick patted him on the shoulder as he walked out. "Good work, by the way," he added before leaving.

Greg nodded, putting the stuff away for now. He needed a break. On his way out, he happened to see Grissom pass by into his office. Greg knew that if he was going to talk with him at all, now was the time. He didn't wait for an invitation, just merely went in, shutting the door behind him. Grissom glanced up at him, then back down at his papers he held in his hands. His boss didn't seem surprised to see him there.

Greg dug the paper out of his pocket, tossing it on the desk as he sat down. "What is this?" he asked calmly.

When Grissom didn't answer, Greg continued, "I can't accept that Grissom. I said some money, besides that, you promised."

"I promised I wouldn't give you _seventy_ thousand dollars."

Greg was taken aback. "You knew what I meant. This is unfair, you can't do this to me."

Grissom sat down with a sigh, looking up at him. "To you? I'm doing it _for you_ Greg. You need the money. If you think I'm going to sit here and watch you die, then you need help, and I'm not talking physically."

"I know you're trying to help, but this is too much, way too much. I'll never be able to pay you back."

"You can pay me back slowly, how does 12 dollars a month sound?"

Greg shook his head. "Grissom, this isn't funny," Greg argued. That got his attention.

Grissom put the papers down, actually slamming them. "Do you think I'm laughing Greg? You are too young to be going through this, you have a future to think about."

"And what about your future?" Greg asked, "How the hell did you come up with 100,000 dollars anyway?"

"I have my sources, my connections, and my own life savings too Greg."

The young lab tech shook his head, "I can't let you give me your life savings. You should be saving that for something important."

Grissom watched him for a long moment. "So are you telling me that your life isn't important? Last time I checked, a life was the most valuable thing there was in this world. But I could be wrong, after all, it is only an opinion."

Greg clasped his hands, burying his face into them. "You have no idea…how hard, this is for me," he said quietly.

Grissom agreed quietly. "No, I don't. And I hope I never do. You don't deserve this, no one does. But don't make it harder on yourself than it is already."

Greg looked up at him, over his entwined fingers, at a loss for words. Instead he just nodded.

"Good, now, either you get back to work, or go home and rest. Your choice."

Greg nodded again as he left the office. Things hadn't gone as he had wanted. His original plans were to yell and scream at his boss until the man finally agreed to take the money back. Not that he was sorry he was on an organ receiving list now, he just felt that he was in a very unfair situation. Letting out a sigh he made his way to the break room, nodding to Warrick who was eating at the table.

Greg poured himself a cup of coffee, taking a long sip as he leaned against the counter, trying to think things over. It took him only a moment to realize the mistake he had made, as his stomach protested. The next moment found himself over the sink, the back of his wrist pressed against his mouth, trying to will his body not to get sick again, with little luck.

He could feel Warrick's hands on his shoulders, supporting him his stomach lurched again. Greg quickly wiped his mouth and eyes, shaking Warrick off gently. "Sorry," he sputtered weakly as Warrick led him over to the couch, sitting him down.

"It's okay, take it easy man," Warrick told him softly, still holding him by the shoulders. Greg was warm, warmer than normal he noted. The young lab tech's episode had been violent and unexpected. Warrick knelt down in front of him, watching him. Greg was avoiding his gaze, trembling slightly as Warrick felt his forehead.

"You're running a fever," he commented, "you shouldn't have come in tonight."

Greg waved him off, holding his stomach as he leaned forward. "I'm fine, must be something wrong with the coffee," he said quietly.

Warrick frowned as Greg coughed a few times, closing his eyes as he tried to slow his heavy breathing. "Stay here," he told him, "I'll be right back."

Catherine had passed by the break room; Warrick caught her just a little ways down. "Hey Cath?"

She turned, waiting for him to catch up. "What's up?"

"How do you feel about cleaning up a mess?"

Catherine watched him for a moment, "What kind of mess?"

Greg just got sick in the break room, he's running a fever so I was going to take him home. That, or you can run him home and I'll clean. One way or the other, I can't do both."

Catherine nodded as she followed Warrick back into the break room, frowning when she saw Greg. The young tech was holding his stomach, bent over his knees and staring at the floor. She sat next to him as Warrick started cleaning up.

"Not feeling good huh?" she teased lightly, rubbing his upper back.

Greg swallowed, seeing that there really wasn't an alternative now. "Yeah, I guess not."

"Come on, let's get you home," she told him, offering a hand.

Greg waved her off, standing slowly. "I can just catch a taxi," he told her, "It'll be much easier."

"On who?" Catherine laughed, "your stomach or the taxi driver? It's no big deal, go get your stuff."

Greg nodded dully, allowing Catherine to lead him back to the lockers, then out to her car. The ride to his place was quiet, neither of them spoke. This time though, Catherine walked him up to his place.

"Nice place," she commented, her first being in here.

Greg nodded as he sat down on the couch, "Thanks, for the ride home I mean."

Catherine smiled, "Like I said, not a problem. Is there anything else you need?"

Greg shook his head, "No, I'm okay."

"You sure? I don't mind," she offered.

Greg nodded, leaning back on the couch, swinging his legs up. "Yeah, if I need anything I can always call Joni," he pointed towards the ceiling, indicating the apartments upstairs. "She owes me a few favors," he grinned.

Catherine laughed, "Okay then, if you're sure. Give me a call if you change your mind."

Greg watched her leave before closing his eyes with a long sigh. He wouldn't be able to keep this charade up for much longer. It had been several days since he had been able to keep anything down, and even longer since he had actually slept. The doctors had upped his vitamins, and encouraged him to drink more fluids. He had been dehydrated on his last visit. They had given him fluids through injection, keeping him there longer than planned. The constant visits were an irritation to him, but his doctor was persistent. She was worried about the possibility of an acute liver failure, which would result in death within 48 hours if it did take place. So he went in every other day, for roughly an hour.

Theses were the last thoughts that ran through his mind as he feel into a deep slumber, unaware of the time that passed by.

**TBC**


	6. No More

**Chapter Six: No More**

There had been another murder. It was called in only a few minutes after shift started. Being listed as high priority, all the members of the night shift had gone in. It was something that Greg was thankful for.

Nearly two weeks had passed since his episode during work. The several days following that were the hardest. With everyone watching him closer, Greg had to be careful about everything he did. He felt crowded. Thankfully, all the attention died, it was passed off as the stomach flu. Greg wished desperately that was all it was.

The money Grissom had given him had been enough to secure a sure spot on a list, and with passing time, as he became worse, he would slowly climb towards the top. Still it wasn't easy as that. You had to consider blood type, age, any illnesses the donor had. The most difficult part of that was finding one that hadn't been damaged prior to donation.

Greg knew that things were getting worse. It had been a near seven weeks since he was officially diagnosed. They had given him an estimate of ten weeks, at the most. It wasn't just time that tipped him off. With each passing day Greg found it harder to get up and going. Everything took more effort. He found himself short of breath from just walking from the DNA lab to the break room.

He was getting sick more often, even at times he hadn't anything in him. Earlier this afternoon, there had been blood. Greg knew that it had moved into more serious stages, knew that he should have called his doctor. But he hadn't.

Instead he had drug himself into work. He wasn't sure how he was going to explain himself to everyone. But he couldn't hide any longer. He hadn't even bothered to hide himself before coming in. This was the day he had been dreading. He wasn't able to express the feeling he had when he heard they were all leaving to another Crime Scene.

Greg often wondered how the team was able to handle such things sometimes. They saw death every night almost. Greg himself, had never seen a dead body before, parts of bodies sometimes, some cases weren't all that pleasant, not that any of them were.

Greg wondered dully how they would react, after he was gone. Would he just be another face? Would anyone mourn, or would life go on as normal. Greg rubbed his head gingerly as he stood up. Making his way towards the restroom, Greg pushed his way in, grabbing onto the sink as a wave of dizziness passed over him. These spells were getting worse too, more frequent and lasting longer.

Greg rubbed his head again, trying to rid it of the pounding headache. He gripped the sink tightly as he took a step back, trying to balance himself out. His knees buckled, dropping him to the ground, his arms unable to support his weight. His head caught the side of the sink, and it was the last Greg remembered.

* * *

They had been at the scene for several hours now, and still had many more to go. A double homicide, a couple of preteen girls. Nick couldn't understand people sometimes. Even after all these years of watching and listening, there were still some things he would never understand.

He was on his way back to the lab now, they had some more DNA samples, but Nick doubted it was anything helpful. Still, if Greg could get a head start on this, maybe they would be done for comparison when the rest of the team returned.

The DNA lab was his first stop, but Greg was not there. It wasn't a surprise, DNA had been slow, Greg had more in likely finished, and had found something else to do. Nick sent him a quick memo, but was surprised to find the young lab tech's pager still on the table next to him.

Nick picked it up, shaking his head. Greg normally carried it with him. He tossed it back on the table top before leaving. Coming across the next occupied room, he stuck his head inside. "Hey Archie, you know where Greg is?"

Archie shook his head, glancing up from the magazine he was reading. "Haven't seen him since the start of shift."

Nick nodded, leaving him and making his way to the break room. Once again, it was empty. Fighting off a long sigh, Nick made his way back to the DNA lab, scribbling a quick note for Greg to run the new samples asap, before making his way back outside. He needed to get back to the scene, this was only a quick run.

He stopped down the hallway, turning around and heading back. He might as well since he was here already. Pushing open the door, Nick had only taken a few steps in before coming to a dead stop.

"Greg?" his voice was quiet, filled with uncertainty.

The young lab tech looked up at him, then back down. He was on the floor, leaning against the far wall of the bathroom. There was blood on the sink right above him, and blood on the floor next to him. Greg was had drawn his knees up under his chin, had wrapped his arms around them.

Nick knelt down in front of him, slightly surprised to see him crying. "Hey man, what happened to you?" he asked, though it was fairly evident what had happened.

Nick covered the gash on the young lab rat's head, pulling his hand back quickly in surprise. Greg was burning up, not only that, his skin was pale, and a blue tint had taken hold of his lips. "Greg, can you hear me?" he asked, more than scared now.

Greg didn't answer, his head resting on his knees now. Nick gave his shoulder a small squeeze, standing up. "I'll be right back, I'm going to get some help."

He was surprised when Greg grabbed his arm, pulling him back down. "No," Greg told him, "don't."

Nick looked back at him, more than confused now. He grabbed Greg's hand, pulling it free of his shirt. His fingers were like ice, as opposed to his forehead. This was more than a freak accident. "Greg, what's going on?" he asked, clasping Greg's hand in his own, trying to chase off the chill.

Greg ignored the question. "Just take me home, don't call anyone."

Nick shook his head, "I'm taking you to the hospital."

"No," Greg argued, coughing, "no hospitals, no doctors. I just want to be home, please?"

He was begging; Nick let out a sigh, watching the young man. He was trembling, and it seemed for the first time he actually noticed how drawn his face was. Nick got to his feet, pulling Greg up behind him, ignoring his protests.

"I'm taking you to the hospital," he told him again firmly, wrapping an arm around his chest once seeing that Greg wasn't able to keep up on his own. "Now, you can either help me, or I'll drag you there."

Greg shook his head, not being able to follow everything that was happening. The hospital was the last place he a wanted to be. Still he could see that Nick wasn't going to let up, and he was too tired to argue at this point. The only thing he knew was that he wanted it to all stop. He was to weary to fight against it anymore.

**TBC**


	7. I’ll Try

**Chapter Seven: I'll Try**

Thirteen steps; it took him thirteen steps to walk the length of the seating area. Thirteen steps forward, a quick turn around, thirteen steps back. By shortening his stride he could get fifteen in, by lengthening it, ten steps. Nick let out a sigh, his hands clasped behind his back tightly as he walked back up, only to turn around to retrace his steps.

His eyes rested on the doors, scanned the stencil lettering. Intensive Care Unit. Biting his lip, Nick continued his pacing. He had been here for hours now, and no one had told him anything. After taking Greg into the ER, they quickly carted him into the ICU in a wheelchair. Nick had called Grissom shortly after, updating him on what had happened in a shaky and queasy voice. His boss' voice was grim, but not surprised. Nick hadn't time to worry about it then.

The only thing he could think of was the look Greg had given him. Nick couldn't describe it, there was so much in so little. He sat down, running his hands through his hair, closing his eyes. His fingers dug into his skull as the memory came back to him, quite vividly.

No one had answers, everyone that passed by only shook their head, telling him that he would know 'soon' and that he just had to wait. Nick felt sick, he hoped that this was only a freak accident. Maybe Greg had hit his head hard enough to cause all his other symptoms, maybe he was overreacting, perhaps he should have just taken Greg home, as the young lab tech had asked.

His mind knew different. Whatever was wrong, had been happening for a while. He cursed himself inwardly, why hadn't he seen before? He talked to Greg nearly every day, had worked with him on and off, even given him a ride or two when they got off shift the same time. And he didn't notice, he wasn't able to see, Greg was right in front of his eyes and Nick never really noticed.

Glancing up as the door opened, he watched expectantly as a doctor walked by. When she didn't stop, Nick stood up, reaching for her arm. She turned, watching him for a moment.

"Please, miss," Nick asked softly, "I've been here for hours now, I brought a Mr. Sanders in, I haven't heard anything since."

She gave a small smile. "You must be Mr. Stokes," she answered, sitting down, indicating that he should do the same. "Greg mentioned that you might still be here."

Nick raised an eyebrow. _Might? _He was worried out of his mind. "Yeah, how is he?"

"Sander's disease has moved into its final stages," she started, pulling out a file.

Nick cut her off, waving his hands, "Woah, wait, hold on," he sputtered. "What disease?"

She let out a soft sigh, her shoulders slumping. "He never told you then, I'm assuming? I kind of thought he was that type of person."

Nick shook his head, he was beginning to feel sick. "I'm completely lost here, please, I found him in the bathroom, he hit his head, I brought him in. That's all I know."

She nodded, "I'm Greg Sander's Doctor, Dr. Mannon," she shook hands with him. "Greg has been suffering from long term liver failure. Actually, liver failure is the final stages of complete shutdown of the liver, he hasn't gotten there quite yet, but he's severely close. He should have been in the hospital days ago."

Nick could only stare at her, his throat dry, as he was at a loss for words. "He's known about this?" He finally managed to spit out.

Dr. Mannon nodded, "For sometime."

"What, what can be done?"

"He needs a transplant," she explained.

"I'll donate," Nick interrupted, "all he needs is a partial right?"

"It's not that easy," she told him quietly. "Greg needs a full transplant, there's nothing we can do to save what's left of his liver."

"Okay," Nick let out a long breath, "You just need to find a donor, I mean, liver transplants are fairly successful, from what I've seen. How soon does he need one?"

Dr. Mannon bit her lip, "A day, maybe two."

Nick was shocked, unwilling to believe that things had gotten so bad without anyone's knowledge. This was some sort of bad dream, he was going to wake up any second now, and find himself at home. He would go into work, and see the young lab tech, busy at work.

"We can," Dr. Mannon started, breaking his thoughts. "We can give him up to a week if we get him on treatment."

"Then get him on treatment," Nick started.

"Mr. Sanders has refused treatment," she told him dryly. "He's preparing himself to leave as we speak. I was hoping to find you, if you can convince him to stay, and receive treatment, we can give him more time. That's all that counts in his condition, is time. The more time he has, the more chance he'll have of receiving a suitable organ. We can get him on mycophenalate motifil, or Cellcept, as it is more commonly know. It's used more often in kidney failure, but it will give the same effect. It will slow down the antibodies that are attacking his liver by diminishing them."

Nick nodded, even though he was dumbfounded as to the reason why Greg would refuse treatment. "I…I'll do what I can," he told her softly.

She nodded, "Third door on the right, and good luck."

She was right, Greg was sitting on the edge of the bed, dressed in a pair of slacks, and was reaching for his shirt. The young lab tech glanced up as Nick made his way in, before turning away from the Texan's astonished look. He had never seen anyone so thin, and still alive at the same time.

Greg pulled the shirt over his head, the fabric effectively covering his skeletal frame. Nick didn't say anything at first, only watched as Greg reached for his shoes, pulling them on.

"Why?" Nick asked.

Greg didn't meet his gaze, only concentrated on tying his shoe. "Shit happens," Greg snapped, though his voice was quiet and labored.

"Why didn't you say anything," Nick pressed, not taken aback by the other man's mood.

"Because," Greg said flatly, "I didn't feel like it."

"Greg, I'm only trying to help," Nick mumbled softly.

"You want to help?" Greg asked, looking up at him. "Then call me a taxi."

"You can't be serious," Nick told him, "Greg, you need to stay here."

"What for?"

Nick shook his head, watching the youth reach for the other shoe. "Because, you need help. Greg, you're dying."

"I'm going to die anyways Nick," Greg pointed out, resting his hands on his knees.

"They can help you," he pointed out, but Greg was already shaking his head.

"No, they can't. Face the facts, I already have. I'm just not strong enough." Greg pushed himself up, stumbling as the room swayed. Nick moved over to his side quickly, supporting him. Greg pushed him away weakly, but to no avail as Nick sat him back down on the bed.

Now in front of him, Nick held the young man's hands gently, still shocked by how cold they were. He squeezed them gently, looking up into his eyes. Greg avoided his gaze, trying to control his short breaths.

"Greg," Nick started slowly. He had wanted Greg to look at him, but no luck. "I don't know how this could have all happened, how you were able to fight this for so long, but you couldn't have done it if you weren't strong."

Greg let out a sigh, "I'm in no mood for a pep talk," he argued, but Nick wasn't swayed.

"I know how you feel," Nick started, but Greg cut him off, pulling free of his hold.

"Have you ever been sick?" he asked, "Have you ever found yourself waking up, and wondering, will today be the day? Will this be the last time I see the sun set, the last you see you friends, the last time you wave to the little old lady as you pick up your mail? To know that you are dying, and know that there is no hope for you? Do you know what it's like, to get up every day, go to work, and to see life go on as if nothing is wrong and yet know that one day you will no longer be a part of it? Do you?"

Nick shook his head slowly, swallowing.

"No, because the fact that you may not wake up tomorrow doesn't cross your mind. I mean, it could happen to any one of us, in some freak accident, or from a disease that has no answers. We can't explain, even us, I mean, you see death all the time. Don't you ever think, what if that was me?"

"No," Nick admitted. "I never have."

Greg nodded dully, drawing in a shaky breath as he wiped his eyes. "I have, every day now, for quite a while. I've tried to come up with ways to tell everyone, make the arrangements for afterwards. Tried to figure out who to leave what, but I didn't. I can't, I'm too scared. I'm not ready to die, but I know it's not my choice. I know I've let you all down, I'm sorry."

Nick's gaze dropped to the floor, then back up to Greg. "No one will blame you Greg," Nick told him gently. "I don't, you're dealing with too big of burden here, and you're trying to carry it yourself. You shouldn't have to."

"I don't have any choice," Greg pointed out.

"Yes, you do," Nick told him, standing. He took the young man by the shoulders. "You can take the treatment, you can choose to fight back, to hold out as long as you can."

Greg shook his head, "I can't," he stuttered.

"Are you telling me that you're giving up? That you're quitting? Greg Sanders, the indomitable, comical and annoying lab rat I know is just going to give up? I've never seen you quit on anything Greg, why do you think I give you all those seemingly impossible tasks?"

Greg glanced up at him shocked, "Because you don't want to do it maybe?"

Nick shook his head, "Because I know that you can get it done. You so strong-headed, once you have your mind set, you won't stop until you see it through."

Greg let out a sigh, shaking his head as Nick continued. "If you die, _if _you die," he stressed the if strongly. "Then let it be because it's finally time, not because you gave up. All you need is time, I'm not saying that you'll win, but it could happen. You're a scientist, you know that there is still a chance, no matter how small. If you give in now, then there is no longer a chance."

Greg was quiet for a long moment, Nick was desperately trying to think of something else to say, to persuade him. "Okay," Greg finally muttered, "I'll try."

Nick let out the breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. "That's all I'm asking," he told the lab tech, letting go as the youth lay back down. Nick sat down on the edge of the bed, watching him. "That's all I'm asking." He muttered again, pressing the call button gently.

"Just try."

**TBC**

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	8. Breaking the Ice

**Can you believe this is chapter eight already? My stories always end up longer than planned, I had originally thought to have this done in five chapters. I say that a lot though: A big thanks to all my reviewers, this is the first really heavy angst story I've done so far, and I'm still not sure what direction this will turn in yet. Give me some feedback!**

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**Chapter Eight: Breaking the Ice**

Sara came into the room, watching Grissom with a frown. She had not been happy about the emergency page she had received for the meeting. "Griss," she asked, interrupting his conversation with Catherine.

She waited until he was looking at her, "What is this?" she asked. "We are closer than ever to catching this guy. Can't this wait?"

Grissom shook his head, "If it could Sara, then I wouldn't be calling it right now. Just sit down, it won't take very long."

There was something in his tone, something Sara couldn't quite pick out. She didn't pay too much attention to it though, after all, he was probably as stressed about finding the killer as she was. Maybe he had something new, but why call a meeting for it? Why not just pass out the info to those who were working on the case?

Shaking her head, she took a seat in the back of the room, folding her hands on top the table. Warrick and Nick still needed to come before Grissom would start. He always waited for everyone to be here. So it was surprise when Warrick came in, that Grissom mentioned for him to shut the door. Warrick hesitated, but did so after a moment, moving to take a seat next to Sara.

She gave him a questioning look; Warrick shrugged in response, looking back up towards the front. With a sigh Grissom turned towards them, his gaze running past each and everyone one with a frown. Maybe now he realized that Nick wasn't here.

"I know we're all busy," Grissom started, "this case has drug us through a lot. Seeing all of you now, I realize we all could use a break, get some rest." He waved that notion away, as if trying to grasp something in the air. "That's not why we are here though. First things first, whatever is said behind closed doors, is where it stays. I've called you three together because I felt you should all know. Word will get around on its on, but don't encourage them. This isn't exactly easy to say, so I'll come right out and say it. Greg is in the ICU at Desert Springs Hospital."

Sara was stunned, she had expected several things. She had expected and update about the case at first, but when Nick didn't show, she wondered if something had happened to him, if he had been suspended for some reason, or maybe he had reached his maximum limit for overtime, and the rest were getting close. Sara, herself, could not remember how many hours she had worked so far. But out of everything, she wasn't expecting this.

The silence wasn't long lived.

"What do you mean in the ICU?" Catherine asked, her voice raising a notch, as one does when worry is apparent. "He wasn't in an accident was he? I told him those taxi's were dangerous, he should have just called me like I told him to."

Sara glanced down at her hands, then over to Warrick. He was staring straight ahead, mouth hanging open slightly. Sara was sure she looked quite the same. Her thoughts drifted as she remembered not seeing the lab tech tonight, did he even make it to work? How bad off was he?

Grissom cleared his throat, holding a hand out to stop Catherine's ranting. "There hasn't been an accident." He told them quietly. "Greg's sick," he let out a sigh, rubbing his forehead. "He's been sick for quite some time now."

Sara had never seen Grissom look so old before. Like a parent grieving for a lost child. He seemed as though he was crying, but she couldn't tell, being too far back in the room. A hand on her shoulder made her realize that she was starting to cry too. Hastily she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, nodding to Warrick as he squeezed her shoulder, but unable to look at him.

"Sick?" Catherine asked. She seemed to be the only one with a voice at the moment. "Like flu sick, or cancer sick?"

"Neither," was all the reply Grissom gave them.

Sara shook her head; this was all too unreal. "What then?"

"Greg's is experience liver failure. A complication derived from long ago, in his childhood," It was apparent that Grissom wasn't going to explain any further than just facts.

"But they have treatment for that," Catherine said quickly. "Several methods, depending on how far he is. He'll get better right? When will he be able to come back?"

Grissom shook his head, taking a seat next to her. "There's a good chance that he won't be."

"What?" Warrick asked, speaking for the first time. "Not come back to work, or not coming back at all?"

The silence this time was perhaps the longest, if not by minutes, then by the anxiety felt in the room as everyone waited the answer, some unsure if they wanted to hear it at all.

"At all," Grissom answered quietly. "Greg needs a full liver transplant. I've done all I can to help him. All we need now is time, and hope, prayers. Anything positive will help."

"How much time?" Catherine asked.

"Greg's doctor gave me a call, explained what was going on. By the looks of things, he has one, maybe two…" Grissom stopped there, unable to finish.

"One or two what?" Warrick asked, "Months? Years?"

"Days," Grissom breathed.

Sara shook her head, scooting her chair back so she could lean against the table. "No, uh uh, there is no way this is possible. This is some sort of sick joke, or nightmare that I'm going to wake up from really soon. There is no way that someone can…can, die, right in front of our eyes, and no one notices? I mean, we work in a Crime Lab; we investigate death enough that we should be able to see it happening right? We are able to find the smallest pieces of evidence, how could we miss something as big as this?"

Grissom looked up at her, a sad smile on his lips. One of regret. "Some things aren't found, because they want to stay hidden."

"But why hide it?" Warrick asked, "I mean, I don't know the guy all that well, but we're still friends. We see each other nearly every day, I would have helped out."

The others agreed, nodding and murmuring quietly.

"Because he was afraid. People are afraid of being judged, I don't think Greg meant to keep it from all of you for this long. I assume time just caught up with sooner then he thought it would. Nick is over with him now; he was the one who brought him in. Greg's doctor told me that if Greg accepts treatment, then he could last up to a week. At the moment, Nick is in talking with him, trying to convince him to do so."

"What can we do?" Sara asked suddenly.

"At this point, just pray. If he receives a transplant in time, money will be the largest issue. Money figures are in the several hundreds of thousands. If he makes it though, the road ahead will be a long one. He'll need all the support he can get."

It was quiet again, for a long time. The ticking of the clock was steady; the silent breaths they took filled the room. Grissom finally stood, the scraping of the chair against the tile a crude difference in comparison to the silence. "Shift is over soon enough, I would advise to cut back on the overtime, and get there while you can. There is no guarantee on anything at the moment. The case can wait till tomorrow."

Grissom left, just like that, leaving the others. He stopped by the door, one hand resting on the handle. "Remember, what is said behind closed doors, stays behind closed doors."

**TBC**


	9. Remorse

**Since I'm stuck in bed today, I figured I'd get some writing done, so another quick update. Love the feedback, have to keep it coming, I'll try and R2R up next chapter, but no promises. **

**Also, selected lyrics come from Donny Osmond, 'Whenever You're In Trouble'**

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**Chapter Nine: Remorse**

Sara made her way towards the front desk, coat draped over her arms as she rested one hand on the counter. She smiled easily, though she felt nothing of the sort. "Greg Sanders?" she asked softly.

The receptionist glanced through the papers, nodding. "ICU, third floor," he told her. Sara nodded her thanks, turning towards the elevators. After receiving the news, Sara had gone back to working on what she had started before receiving the page. But she found it hard to work with the thoughts on her mind.

It had been weeks now since they had fought, and it was over a stupid reason. She wished she figured that out sooner. Now anything she said to Greg would more in likely be perceived as pity. Still, she knew what had to be done.

It wasn't a surprise to see the others there, resting in the chairs just outside of the doors. After all, shift had been over for nearly an hour now. Sara had taken her time leaving the lab, still caught in a trance like state. She gave them a short nod as a greeting, taking a seat next to Warrick.

"Any news?" she wondered.

Warrick shook his head. "Nothing yet, Nick's still in with him, and they won't let more than one person in a time right now. They're considering on moving him to a regular hospital room, but aren't sure yet."

Catherine shook her head. "It's sick, he needs all the help he can get, moving him out of ICU would be foolish."

"Yeah," Sara agreed softly. She glanced down at her hands, studying them as though there was nothing better to do.

"I just wish we knew sooner," Warrick whispered, his voice heard to hear. "This seems all too sudden. One day he's there, and all the sudden, this…"

"Hey," Catherine cut him off, "He's not dead yet."

_Key word, _Sara thought. "There's not much we can do."

"Physically no," Catherine responded. "Emotionally? He needs to know that he's not alone."

Sara nodded, glancing up as the doors opened. Nick shuffled out, head down, hands in his pockets. He smiled grimly at them, sitting down as Catherine scooted over to make room for him.

"Well?" Catherine asked, watching him.

"I convinced him to take the treatment," Nick said softly, running a hand over his face. "He's not happy with me, but he's going to take it."

"It'll buy him some time," Sara confirmed, looking back down at her hands.

"I don't get it," Nick shook his head, "Why didn't he just ask for help? Did he think we would shun him or something?"

"Greg's independent, he's never one to ask for help. I had to practically blackmail him to let me help. "

They all looked up as Grissom walked up. With no more room left to sit down, he just stood next to them, leaning against the wall.

Nick glared up at him, frowning. "You knew about this, didn't you?"

Grissom nodded, not returning his glance.

"And you didn't say anything?" Nick demanded, standing. Catherine grabbed his wrist gently, trying to calm him down.

"Greg didn't want me to say anything," Grissom said lightly.

"So now you do everything your employees ask you to do?"

"Greg's condition was his own concern, he has a right to have a private life Nick. He made it quite clear that he didn't want anyone else to know. I respected his wishes."

Nick shook his head, pulling away from Catherine's hold. "So, Greg is dying, and you don't even think of mentioning it until he's almost dead? How could you do something like that?"

"When you're in that situation Nick, you'll understand," Grissom told him quietly.

"You know what the doctors told me? If I didn't find him when I did, he probably would have died in the bathroom there. With the blood he lost, he was already going into shock. They were able to stabilize him, because I got him in here. Grissom, if I didn't go back to the lab when I did, no one would have found him for several hours."

"There were other people at the lab Nick, we were fortunate you stopped by the bathroom before leaving."

Nick let out a sigh, sitting down. "That's not the point Griss," he glanced back up at his boss. "What I'm trying to say is that we should have known, I mean, with Greg that sick, on his own most of the time, he had no one watching over him. And Greg pushes the limits, we all do. That's nothing new, someone should have been keeping an eye on him."

"I was, Nick," Grissom turned to him. "I kept a close enough eye on him without him or anyone else ever noticing."

"Umm, not to break up you two parents or anything, but can anyone else go see Greg?" Catherine cut in, standing.

Nick nodded, letting out a breath. "Yeah, only one at a time though, they're too busy to deal with several visitors at once. Remember that he is a bit cranky though," he warned.

Catherine nodded, turning to the others, "Anyone want to go in first?"

Warrick shook his head, "I'll let him cool down first, you can have the test run though."

Catherine gave him a flat smile, "Thanks."

"So, how long have you known?" Nick asked, watching Catherine disappear behind the doors.

"About a month," Grissom replied, taking a seat next to Sara.

Nick nodded, not saying anything more. Sara glanced between Grissom and Nick, then back to Warrick before standing. "Watch my stuff okay? I'll be right back."

She made a beeline for the bathrooms, that were down the hallway from where they were sitting. Running the cold water over her hands she splashed several handfuls on her face, closing her eyes as the water ran down her face and arms back into the sink. Somehow she had been able to convince herself that this was still all a bad dream. One that she couldn't wake up from. But with each passing minute, it was clear that it really was happening.

She had to see Greg, had to try and make amends. It was the least she could do, if not for Greg, then for herself. It sounded selfish, she knew that. But she also knew that if she did not, then she would blame herself afterwards for who knew how long. But things were easier said than done.

Reaching over, Sara grabbed several paper towels from the dispenser, running them over her face before crumpling them in her hands. They weren't as soft as the ones she used at home, they were dry and scratchy, and smelled like a hospital. That made sense, on the account she was in one. Throwing them away she leaned against the wall, resting her head against the cool tiles. Letting out a sigh she closed her eyes for a moment, opening them as she studied the room around her.

She stayed like that for some time, before realizing that she had to get going, before the others started to worry about her. Turning back, she glanced into the mirror, pausing for a moment. Shaking her head she left the room, giving the others a small smile before sitting down again.

Catherine had returned, and Sara could assume that Warrick was in visiting him at the moment, since Catherine informed her that Nick and Grissom had already left. "Didn't was you to freak when you came back here and found no one here. That and I didn't want to leave you stuff here alone."

"How long was I in there?" Sara asked, pulling her purse and coat into her lap.

"Half an hour almost, you okay?"

Sara gave a light shrug. "Been better, but I'll live."

Catherine nodded, giving her hand a light squeeze. "Okay, I've got to get home to Lindsey, you take care. Call if you need anything."

Sara nodded as Catherine left, leaning back into the chairs. Half an hour? She had been gone a lot longer than she thought. Several more minutes passed as Warrick came out, taking a seat next to her.

"Hey, thought you got lost in there," he commented.

Sara laughed softly, "Who knows, anything's possible. How is he?"

"Exhausted," Warrick told her quietly. "Drugs are starting to kick in now, he's not very alert. I told him you were coming in though, said he was looking forward to it."

Sara smiled, "That's kind of hard to believe."

"Also told him that you were in a mini skirt," Warrick joked.

"I haven't worn a dress since I was in second grade," Sara laughed.

"He doesn't know that," Warrick smiled. "Go on and see him, visiting hours are almost over. I'll wait for you."

Sara nodded, standing. "You don't have to wait," she added, turning back to him.

"Get going Sara," Warrick pointed to the doors.

"Thanks," she gave him a small smile before pushing the doors open, walking past as the swung shut. Taking a deep breath she came to a stop outside his room, composing herself before walking inside.

**TBC**


	10. Sooner or Later

**Chapter Ten: Sooner or Later**

Sara had prepared herself for what she would see beyond the door. This wasn't her first time in a hospital; it wasn't her first time seeing someone injured, someone who was close to death. The cases took her here often enough. She had seen countless of injuries, and heard countless of reasons. Still, this was different.

Coming into the room, she smiled slightly despite herself, watching him for a moment, coming to another pause. Greg was hooked up to an IV, as well as several other items, heart monitor, pain medication…it wasn't unusual for this situation, predictable even, but still unnerving.

He was nearly asleep; she could see his eyes flutter open slightly, watching her as she sat down.

"You weren't planning on falling asleep just to avoid me were you?" she asked, leaning forward, her voice quiet.

Greg raised an eyebrow, "My favorite CSI girl? Why would I do that?" his voice was muffled, his words slurred. A sure indication that the medication was kicking in. "You're not wearing a mini skirt, got to remind myself not to listen to Warrick."

Sara laughed, rolling her eyes. "I thought you already knew that," she teased.

"Yeah? Guess I'm still learning huh?"

"You'll catch on sooner or later," she told him.

He gave her half a smile, closing his eyes. "I don't think there will be a later Sar," he told her softly, reverting to her old nickname she had acquired years ago.

"You don't know that Greg," she reached over, grabbing his hand gently. "There's still time."

Greg only shrugged, opening his eyes again. "I suppose, I'm not one to ruin the party, but the odds aren't in my favor."

Sara shook her head, wondering if the others had gone through this as well. He certainly wasn't angry anymore, but she wasn't sure if the depressed Greg was the one she liked any better. "You should have said something earlier, you know."

Greg laughed softly, watching her. "I'll have to get the nurse to change the station, it keeps repeating itself," he joked, growing more serious at the look she gave him. "I know," he told her quietly, "that's what everyone's been saying. I just couldn't bring myself to do it. Telling Grissom was hard enough, and I didn't even want to do that."

"You could have said something to me," she offered, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "I would have listened."

Greg closed he eyes, sighing. "Would you? You've been avoiding me the last few weeks."

Sara bit her lip in order to keep from crying right then. She was glad that Greg had his eyes closed, unable to see her reaction. Composing herself quickly, she nodded, squeezing his hand gently.

"I know," she admitted. "I've been a jerk, I'm sorry."

"I don't really blame you," Greg told her, eyes still closed. He was becoming harder to hear. "I screwed up."

"Greg, I don't care about that anymore. I did for a while, but that's my own fault. I asked for your help on something, it was still my responsibility. I've been avoiding you, yes. Not because I've been mad at you…mostly because I've been mad at myself, and I haven't been able to bring myself around to apologizing. I'm sorry."

"I don't expect pity Sara," Greg announced, opening his eyes.

"I'm not pitying you Greg. If I was, then I'd probably ask you to go out with me, or something like that."

"In that case, lay it on thick," he gave her a wide grin, causing her to laugh.

"I said if I was, which I'm not."

"Strike three," Greg laughed, "have to think of a new approach."

"You just have to be more persistent," Sara told him. "Don't give up so easily. Some girls like a challenge."

"Really?" Greg wondered, "Catherine says I should try blackmailing you."

"What, are you accumulating dating tips from all our co-workers now?" Sara wondered, laughing.

Greg shrugged, "You know, whatever works." He let out a yawn, his eyes closing once again.

Sara gave him an apologetic smile, even though he couldn't see her. "I've kept you up longer than I should have," she told him quietly. "Get your rest, okay?"

"Don't worry," he answered, "I'll have plenty of it soon enough."

"Don't say that," she told him harshly giving his hand another squeeze as her voice lightened. "I'll come back tomorrow?"

It was more a question than a statement, so she was glad to see him nod. "I'll see if I have room in schedule for you."

"Thanks," she commented dryly, nodding to the nurse who had entered the room.

"Visiting hours are over miss," the nurse told her gently with a smile.

Sara nodded, turning back to Greg, "Take it easy lab rat, I'll be back later." She gave the nurse a similar smile as she left the room, watching from the corner of her eye as she tended to Greg.

As promised, Warrick was still waiting for her when she came out. He scooted over as she sat down, not saying anything, only watching her. "Sara?"

Not able to stand it anymore, she suddenly burst into tears, bringing a hand up to cover her face, leaning against him. Warrick wrapped an arm around her shoulders, holding her as she cried.

"He's going to be okay Sara," he told her, trying to calm her down. "He's going to be okay."

**TBC**


	11. Hope

**Chapter Eleven: Hope**

Grissom watched silently from a distance as they moved him. It was unnerving, but at the same time Grissom knew that there was nothing more they could do. The medication they had been giving him kept him in a drowsy state, unaware of what was happening most of the time. Grissom had already been to see him several times, but he doubted the lab tech even knew he was there.

He had been on his way to the lab, leaving early so he could stop by and check on his progress. It had become a normal routine for him. Grissom knew that the others stopped by after shift to see him; he had heard that Greg was more awake around that time and had thought about stopping by that time. He chose to come instead before shift, finding that it helped put his mind to ease.

Grissom sighed as he checked his watch; he would have to get going here soon. He at least wanted to wait until they got him settled in the new room. It didn't take much longer, and he was allowed to come in.

He sat down, smiling at the youth that was watching him. The tech seemed to be more awake now.

"You should be at the lab," Greg commented dryly, "You're late."

"The lab can wait Greg, I just wanted to see how you were doing," Grissom told him.

Greg gave him a small smile, turning away. "Tired," he told him softly, "really tired."

"You're medication's doing that," Grissom informed him.

Greg shrugged lightly, yawning. "Is it?" He raised an eyebrow, "They told me this morning."

Grissom nodded quietly. They had informed him as well, and he had hoped that they hadn't said anything to him about it though. "There's still time," Grissom told him.

Greg shook his head, "Time is gone Griss," he coughed lightly, closing his eyes. "They say I only have a few hours."

Grissom sighed, lowering his head with a sigh. He didn't know what else to tell him. What exactly did you say to someone who was dying? It's going to be okay? No, it wasn't okay, it wasn't right.

He turned back to find Greg watching him. "You will…tell everyone, won't you?"

Grissom nodded, "If you want me too," he said softly.

"Well," Greg fought of a sigh, closing his eyes again. "I'm not exactly going to be able to."

"I know," Grissom told him quietly. An uneasy silence stretched between them, neither one speaking for a moment. Finally Grissom cleared his throat. "You want me to stay here?"

Greg shook his head, "No, I'll be okay. Go…"

"Greg, you don't have to do this alone, I don't mind staying," Grissom told him quietly.

Greg was already shaking his head, "No, I need to do this by myself," he sighed. "I don't…I'm scared, yes…but I need, I need to do this alone. Please understand that…"

Grissom let out a sigh. "I understand, I just wish you would reconsider. Everyone would like to see you again, before…" Grissom couldn't finish.

"You, uh, you'll keep an eye on Sara?" Greg asked, "I think I freaked her out."

Grissom nodded, watching him. "Are you sure about this?"

"Yeah…" Greg said quietly, not looking at him anymore, "Go on, if you don't show up, everyone's going to freak."

Grissom stood up, squeezing his shoulder. "You hang in there, I'll be back after shift."

Greg nodded, watching him leave. "I'm sorry," he whispered, closing his eyes.

* * *

Work was slow that day, work had been slow the last several days. Everyone was distracted, withdrawn. No one had said anything when Grissom came in late, for which he was glad of. He wasn't ready to tell them, and he wasn't going to until he was certain.

It was several hours later that the phone rang, Grissom was afraid to pick it up, but did so after the third ring. "Grissom," he said quietly.

He let out a long sigh, closing his eyes. "Okay, we'll meet you there."

Hanging up the phone he grabbed his case from off his desk, stopping by the trace lab. "Sara, Warrick, you're with me on this one."

It didn't take long to load the car, they drove in together. Brass meet them there with a nod, briefing them as he always did.

"Two DB's, Mother and child, driver of the truck was hurt pretty bad, she was taken to the hospital already. Witnesses say the Mother was driving pretty recklessly."

Grissom nodded, "Sara, you and Warrick start processing, I'll head over to the hospital, see if I can get a statement." That wasn't he only reason he wanted to go.

Brass caught his arm as he turned though, "The truck driver didn't make the ride, they called and confirmed, but they're still taking her to the hospital," Brass told him.

Grissom frowned, "Why?" he asked.

"I don't want to get anyone's hopes up," he continued, his voice quieter. "She's an organ donor, a possible match for Greg."

Grissom nodded, "How much a chance?" he wondered.

"Not much, but they're still going to try."

Grissom nodded, "I'm going over there then, watch the scene?"

Brass nodded, "Let me know what happens."

**TBC**


	12. Quarantine

**Hmm, so we are coming along here, already on chapter Twelve…I did say once that I had planned for this to be originally five chapters long, right? Strange things happen when I start writing, the ideas expand…you guys are wonderful fuel for the mind, you know that?**

**R2R are at the bottom, scary, I know. **

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**Chapter Twelve: Quarantine **

Sara closed the locker with a sigh, glancing up at the clock. For the first time in a long while, she wouldn't have any overtime this pay period. She had been leaving as soon as shift was over for the last week now, heading over to see Greg. Sometimes Warrick would go with her, but today he had a meeting to attend. Still he met her in the locker room there, giving her a small smile.

"You doing okay?" he asked her quietly. Ever since that first night Warrick had made it a point to keep a closer eye on her.

Returning his smile she gave him a nod. "Yeah, I'm just going to head out, check in on Greg," she glanced down at the floor, still sitting on the bench. "The doctors said he wasn't doing all that well yesterday," she mentioned quietly. "Said they were probably going to take him out of ICU, to make more room for other patients. I want to be there, you know…for him when it happens, if it hasn't already, that is."

Warrick nodded grimly, "If something happened, they would have called," he encouraged her.

Sara stood up, pulling her coat over her shoulders. "I hope so," she turned back to him, "I mean, I don't want to hear it…but this waiting…it's too much for me."

"There is a good reason why the human fears the unknown," Warrick told her. "Tell him I said hi?"

Sara smiled, nodding, "I will."

It was only a short drive to the hospital, but traffic seemed to purposely hinder her; as if it could tell she was in a hurry. Twenty minutes later she pulled in to the visitor lot, parking at the first available spot, and hurrying inside.

After signing in, she made her way up the corridor, reaching up to push the doors open when she was stopped by a nurse. Sara gave her an uneasy smile, recognizing her as one of Greg's nurses, Helen.

"He's not in there anymore," the nurse told her quietly.

"He didn't?" Sara asked, her voice scratchy.

"No, no," Helen quickly reassured her, "Mr. Sanders just isn't taking visitors right now," she explained. "He came out of surgery earlier today and he's resting up. They had some complications, and he's not responding as well as we hoped to treatment."

"Surgery?" Sara spat quickly, stumbling backwards slightly as she found herself a little lightheaded.

"Come child, sit down," the nurse urged her, holding on to her arm as she guided her to the chairs. "There, do you want me to get you some water or something?"

Sara shook her head, looking back up at Helen. "No, I'm okay, but I could use an explanation. When did he go into surgery?"

Helen opened her mouth as if to answer, but closed it again, standing up. Sara followed her gaze, dumbfounded still.

"I'll take it from here."

The nurse nodded, leaving them after a slight pause. Sara only watched as Grissom sat down next to her, not saying anything for a moment. Then all the sudden she found her voice. "Griss, what's going on?"

Grissom gave her a small smile, "They found a match for him," he told her calmly. "I would have called sooner, but I wanted to wait until I was certain how he was holding up."

"He's going to be okay then?" Sara asked, pleaded would be more like it.

Grissom raised his shoulders in a small shrugging motion. "I don't know, honestly. His chances are certainly better, but still not good."

"How?" Sara wondered.

"Less than fifty," Grissom responded, glancing towards the door. "He was in surgery for most of the day, they won't go into details, but things didn't go all that well. Right now, they're just trying to keep him alive."

"I want to see him," Sara said softly, her voice withdrawn, childlike.

"I don't think…" Grissom started, only to stop. He was going to say that he didn't think it was the best of ideas, but the look on her face said differently. "I don't think you can," he said instead.

"Why not?" Sara asked, watching him. "I want to, if he made it through surgery, I should be able to see him."

"They moved him up to quarantine a little over an hour ago," he explained shortly.

She blinked, shaking her head, confused. "Why?"

"Infection," Grissom said, shrugging his shoulders, "That's all they will tell me. It shouldn't be too much longer though; they said his doctor would be able to fill me in some more after they finished things up."

"What do you think?" She wondered, looking down at her hands.

"I don't know," he answered softly after a short moment, "I want to believe that everything is going to be okay, but facts are facts…"

"You know," she said quietly, "don't you? They told you the odds, what are they?"

Grissom shook his head, but Sara wasn't persuaded so easily. "Griss, what are they? I need to know, please?"

"Twenty percent, of a full recovery," he answered quietly.

"What's not a full recovery?" she wondered, not sure if she wanted the answer.

"There's the rejection of the new liver, possibility of cancer and other diseases. There are many risks, problems, and considering Greg's health when he went in, he's trying to win a big battle."

"It's going to be an uphill battle all the way."

Both Sara and Grissom glanced up as Greg's doctor introduced herself, sitting down next them after shaking hands.

"As you are already aware, we ran into some problems during surgery. Mr. Sanders has been fighting off an infection for the last few days now, and this procedure has seemed to fuel it even more. With his immune system already weakened, we're concerned he may have picked up something during surgery. We've moved him into quarantine in hopes that will help."

"We're going to monitor him very closely for the next several days, to make sure the new liver isn't rejected, it's going to a little harder to detect on the account he already has a fever. As soon as the infection dies down, we can move him back into ICU, keep him there for a few weeks until he gets some of his strength back, and heals. If everything goes according to plan, then we will get him into a recovery program, get some nutrition back in to his body. It's going to take some time for him to adjust to eating daily again. That will be our main concern then."

"Will he be able to return to work?" Sara asked, unsure if she was feeling any better than before.

"We will worry about that later; it really depends on how his body reacts to treatment. We are moving real slow right now." It was vague, but hopeful.

Sara nodded, sighing as she leaned back in the chair. "Is there anyway we can see him?" Sara wondered.

The doctor fidgeted, standing slowly. "I can take you somewhere that you can see him, but you won't be able to go in the room. But are you sure about this? You may not like what you see."

Sara shook her head standing, "After everything I've seen I think I can handle this."

The doctor nodded, indicating to them to follow. Grissom was right behind Sara as the traveled several floors up. "Fifth window on the right," she told them, before leaving herself. Grissom walked next to her as they approached, Sara was holding back some, letting out a sigh as she watched through the window.

"A ventilator?" Sara asked, turning back to him.

Grissom nodded; he had already seen Greg like this, and though he knew it wasn't that unusual, it was still unsettling to see. "Most liver transplant patients will have a ventilator inserted to help with breathing right after surgery. Greg's case is no different; the doctors have already told me that he should have it out by tonight."

She shook her head, watching Greg through the window; the lights were dimmed, casting a shadow over his ashen face. "It doesn't even look like him," she commented quietly. Grissom grasped her hand in his, giving it a small squeeze.

"You really have been here all day, haven't you?" Sara asked of him.

Grissom nodded, "Yeah, pretty much. Come on, let's get to the lab, we won't be able to really see him for a few days yet."

Sara lingered a moment as Grissom walked on ahead, taking one last look through the window with a small smile. They still had a long way to go, but she was confident he would come out on top.

**TBC**

* * *

**Look! I actually did them! I did R2R! Yay! I know…amazing huh? I actually did what I said I was going to do, only took a few chapters to get it done too. **

**As always, major thanks to everyone who reviewed, you guys are so great, I can't even describe how much fun it is to read the feedback you leave behind. And so, without further Ado, I proudly present, R2R! (Sorry, bit of a Disney moment there)**

**Jaded Ghost:** Actually, by technical standards, Greg _can _die, but we just don't want that to happen.

**Tripp3235:** I've been trying to keep my chapters on the longer side, I think that they're more fulfilling that way. As far as money concerns, I wasn't sure how much to have Greg save up, but the operations are a lot of money, so I had to have him have some. Hope that made some sense. I think it was best to have Grissom give Greg the money without little or no thought, it's just seems…Grissomy…okay that sounded like a holiday, lol.

**SLynn:** First off, I absolutely love your stories. Just in case you haven't figured that out yet. And no, I'm not out to get you personally to cry, although that's not bad motivation:D. It took me a long while to come up with the liver transplant idea, did a lot of research to be a close as accurately correct as I could be. Catherine used to be my favorite character (aside from Greg that is) but she's slowly dwindling down, I don't like her very much in the new season. Too overpowering I think. And where would you ever get the idea that I'm mean? –glances through all the stories- okay…so maybe I am a little callous….

**Spewilicious: **Thanks! Stress factor is good; have to keep you on the edge of your seat somehow.

**RiverRunsDeep:** I would never kill Greg! Sure, he might die from some disease or accident I create, but I personally, would never kill him…though my ideas might.

**Stormchilde:** You have a liver sitting in your desk? –scoots away slowly- uh, when was the last time you cleaned that out? Lol! I thought that Nick finding Greg like that was a good way; I had to play with several characters to figure out what one would work the best.

**LuvinNickyStokes:** Hope you're feeling better, I know I am. Grissom's sources…I don't know? Lol, friends I would gather, I mean if he had enough to schedule surgery and go in for it right away in 'Inside the Box' I'm assuming he has some money stored somewhere…and true, ear surgery is a little different from a transplant. I personally left out some of the interaction between characters because I feared it would get to redundant, so I focused instead on mainly Sara and Greg, since they are my two favorites, and I added a bit of Grissom Greg interaction to top it off. They others may come in later, depends on how the story goes.

**knuddel:** I worked really hard on his reason behind getting the disease. I spent a long time researching possible ways, so I hope the outcome of the story is worth it, and so for, it's looking good.

**Tyler Logan:** I'm glad you are enjoying the story so much, but don't loose sleep over me, I don't want to be responsible for any accidents due to sleep loss. :D

**lins:** I wanted to put the part about Grissom looking like he had lost a son, because I feel that that type of look is the hardest to describe, and it sort of fit perfectly.

**Puddleduck: **I had to lighten the mood up somehow, and that seemed to work rather well. And honestly? I thought the liver from a crime scene victim was a cheesy idea…lol

**Sharon** Yes, you're review worked, glad you are reading! I will finish my other stories, I kind of write in bursts; it's been a little lagging lately though.

**Ms. Elizabeth Granger:** Well, the simple solution to that problem is write a sequel! I already have a sequel planned for 'Cold as Ice', which is also coming to a close in not too much longer.

**Duckie24:** I was hesitant about putting that part about Sara crying in, almost afraid that it would make it too overly dramatic, but I couldn't find another way to end it really. I really don't mean to stir up old memories, though it has for me, reminding me the last time I saw my Grandfather, I was only eight so it sort of really scared me, but now, I'm doing better.

**Caroline:** Thanks for the comments! I actually don't plan anything out, I just start writing and go from there, so the building of the suspense is totally it's own.

**Jenny70529:** Okay, I've heard of lab/research before, but never dispatch rotation, at least not for a lab. Then again our lab is pretty autonomous, for the most part anyways. I had the wonderful joy of experiencing our lab's attic today…I just love crawling on my hands and knees through the dark trying to read 10 point font off of six year old folders. Of course the others thought it was funny when I came out all dirty, I gather that's what I get for being the newbie. Although I can handle the dark and cramped part, it's the spider part I'm not to fond of. Anyway, after that long rambling, I'm glad you like the story!

**Nickel Geek:** Glad you like the story so much, I don't know quite yet how things will end as of yet.

**witchbsword:** Yes, in fact, it does. I did roughly three hours of research to find a cause for possible liver failure, and several more researching the condition/symptoms and outcomes of treatment, surgery, ect. I try and be really thorough about my stories, and this in one of the first ones actually that I have actually stretched the facts just a little. Everything follows for about ninety five percent accuracy, and about 5 percent altered to fit into the story. I am actually writing this ficlet off of Donny Osmond's song "Whenever You're in Trouble". I was listening to the song and was inspired to write a short story off of it, and it turned into this. The title was also inspired by a song as well; music is such a wonderful thing.


	13. First Signs

**Chapter Thirteen: First signs**

Warrick paused in the doorway, watching for a moment, knowing that both occupants in the room were unaware of his presence. Greg was stretched out on the hospital bed, turned slightly on his side. His face was inert, pale to say the least. His mouth hung open scarcely, his breaths coming in slow pants that could be heard even from here.

Sara sat next to him, her legs folded under her in the chair. Her head was hanging down slightly, her eyes skimming over the pages of the book she held in her lap. Warrick waited a moment longer before knocking on the door with three gentle raps, watching as Sara lifted her head quickly, looking first at Greg, before turning back to him.

He nodded in greeting, walking in a few paces before pausing again, his attention back on Greg. "How's he doing?"

It had been three days since the operation now; Greg had spent his first two in quarantine, the doctors labeling him last night as being fair enough to move him back into intensive care. It was clear from seeing him now that the lab tech was still fighting off a fever, although now he seemed to be resting well enough.

Sara gave him a nod, sitting up as she closed the book in her lap, marking the page she was on with her index and middle fingers. "He's doing better," she said softly, glancing back to Greg.

Warrick let out a sigh as he sat down next to her, shaking his head dully. He could only wonder to how Greg looked before if he was doing better now. His breaths were heavy, uneven at best, and it seemed as though he was struggling to breath. The blankets had been pulled away from his upper torso, as Warrick could see a light sheen of perspiration covered his arms and neck, as well as his forehead.

Sara moved forward, handing the book to Warrick as she picked up a small cloth that was resting on the table next to the bed, wiping down Greg's face before returning to the chair. Greg moved slightly under her administrations, but did little more as she pulled back.

"They say that will help keep his fever down," Sara explained softly, folding the cloth in her lap. "He's been fairly responsive, I mean, more so than before. His body's reacting to sound, pressure. He'll squeeze your hand back if you squeeze first. He even woke up for a short while."

Warrick nodded, glad to hear that things had improved, if only a little. "Yeah?"

"Yeah…he um, he asked about the lab, how everyone was doing…he was really out of it though, I don't think he even knew he was awake, I think he was rambling. This fever's taking a lot out of him."

"You uh, you tell him that you'll be staying with him once he's out of here?" Warrick wondered.

Sara had opted to take her vacation time now, since the doctors had strongly recommended that Greg not stay alone, especially in his first few weeks during recovery at home. Sara shook her head softly in response.

"Not yet, like I said, he was only up for a few, and he didn't seem all that focused. The rest of the time he's been asleep."

Warrick turned back to her, watching as he she continued to fold and unfold the small towel. "You've eaten yet?"

"I had a snack, earlier…" Sara confessed, her gaze turning up to watch Greg.

"You need to eat something," Warrick told her, "more than a snack I mean."

She shook her head, protesting, "I want to stay here, in case he wakes up."

"If you're going to take care of him, you need to take care of yourself," Warrick pointed out. "Besides, Greg wouldn't want you to starve yourself on his account. I'll stay here, go and eat."

Sara started to protest again, but the look from Warrick silenced her. Knowing that she had lost, she gave him a settle nod, standing slowly. "I won't be long," she told him quietly, leaving the room after taking a last glance at Greg.

Warrick sat back with a sigh, tapping his fingers absentmindedly on the arm rest, watching Greg sleep. It was hard to believe all of this was happening. Greg was only a kid, he hadn't done anything to deserve this. And the simple fact that no one could do anything was even more upsetting. It took him only a moment to realize he was being watched.

Warrick leaned forward, giving him a small smile, even though he was cursing himself inwardly at the same time. He should have realized sooner that Greg was awake, he could hear the difference in his breaths now, that should have tipped him off minutes ago. "Hey man," he said quietly.

Greg raised an eyebrow slightly, and at first Warrick thought that was all he was going to do, so it was a surprise when Greg managed a weak hey in return. The young lab tech closed his eyes, drawing in several deep breaths that were ragged. "Thirsty."

Warrick could barely hear him, and took several moments for him to realize what Greg had said. Nodding, Warrick glanced around, spotting a pitcher of water and a cup on the end table. Filling it only halfway, Warrick passed it off to Greg who had been able to pull himself up a bit to a sitting position.

Unsure if Greg needed any help or not, Warrick hovered nearby, watching as Greg took several small sips, before draining the rest of the cup.

"Thanks," Greg told him, passing back the cup. His voice wasn't as rough now, Warrick noted, taking a seat on the end of the bed.

"How you feeling?" Warrick wondered, watching as Greg leaned back against the pillows, coughing softly.

"Horrible," Greg muttered, lifting his eyes to meet his own. "I'm in pretty bad shape huh?" he tried to smile, tried to lighten the mood. Warrick could only smile in return, amazed that Greg hadn't really changed despite everything he had gone through.

"It's just a small setback," Warrick told him, "you've given us all quite a scare man."

Greg nodded silently, closing his eyes. It was then Warrick noticed Greg was trembling lightly, concern working into his features. "You okay?" he asked worriedly.

Greg nodded again, opening his eyes a little, watching him through slits. "Just tired," he mumbled.

"Get your rest," Warrick told him, "We'll have plenty of time to talk later."

Greg didn't respond that time; Warrick soon realized that it was because he had fallen asleep. Letting out a sigh, he got to his feet, dropping the cup back on the table as he walked around the room in a slow circle. He spent the rest of the day there with Sara, the pair talking quietly until Warrick had to leave for his shift. Greg had not woken during that time, but had slept easily. Warrick paused at the doorway, in the same way he had done when he had entered hours ago, taking one last look at Greg before continuing on his way.

**TBC**


	14. Here for You

**Short chapter, I know, there's only going to be one or two more to this story, I'll have to see how things pace out. This will be the last update for all my stories until next week sometime, I'll be out of state, having some fun with the rest of my family. I thought you guys deserved a quick something with a little bit of lightness in it. **

* * *

**Chapter 14: Here for You**

Greg was alone when he first woke up. Blinking slowly a few separate times, he finally managed to keep his eyes open, glancing about the room. Something was different, as he realized for the first time in quite a while that he no longer felt sick. Tired, sore, weak…yeah, he felt quite like that, but not sick.

He couldn't quite remember what exactly had happened, his last few memories a blur. People were talking to him, doctors, that was it, doctors were talking to him. Constantly, keeping his awake when all he wanted to do was sleep. Why was he so tired though? Greg closed his eyes as he remembered why. He was dying. Opening his eyes, Greg shook his head, it didn't make sense, he felt better today than he did before…was he already dead maybe?

Greg laughed quietly at the idea, the heart monitor's constant beep telling him otherwise. No, he was definitely alive. Testing his strength, Greg slowly pulled himself up into a sitting position, collapsing against the pillows once reaching a comfortable position. He closed his eyes, groaning as his vision swam. Maybe that wasn't the best of ideas.

His eyes snapped back open as he heard someone walk in, surprise lining his face at his surprise visitor. "Sara?" he mumbled softly, not even sure she had heard him.

He watched as she looked up at him, from the book she held in her hands. "Hey," she responded with a smile. "Looks like you're awake," she commented, sitting down on the end of his bed. "And up."

Greg's laugh was short. "Yeah, looks like it." Greg glanced up at the wall, frowning when he saw there was no clock. "What time is it?"

"Eight," Sara told him, following his gaze to the bare wall.

"You should be working," Greg licked his dry lips as he crossed his arms in front of him, drawing his knees up.

"I'm on vacation," Sara responded, watching him. She leaned back, placing one hand behind her to support her weight. "The doctors say that you shouldn't be alone during recovery. I told you that once, don't you remember?"

Greg stared at her a moment, baffled as he shook his head gently. "What exactly happened to me?"

Sara sighed, dropping the book closed on the end of the bed before glancing back up at him. "They found a match," she explained, never taking her eyes off of him. Greg glanced away as she continued, feeling somewhat uncomfortable.

"You were really sick by the time they got it in though, they took a pretty big risk performing the operation, but did so anyways. They kept you in quarantine for two days then moved you back here, in ICU. You've been in and out for the last week now, you had a pretty bad fever to top it off."

Greg bit his lip, doing the math quickly in his head. "I've been here for seventeen days?" he asked quietly, not quite believing it himself even as Sara nodded.

"It's been a while, everyone's been worried, been stopping by a checking in on you. Archie was here earlier, you talked with him for several minutes."

Greg turned to her, still processing the information she was telling him. "No, I didn't," he said slowly. Surely he would have remembered that, wouldn't he?

Sara gave him a large smile, one that was nearly a grin. "I've told you, you've been in and out. Mostly out, the doctors still have you on heavy meds, as well as antibiotics, until they're sure you're immune system can take care of itself, you still have a bit of a fever."

She laughed at the look on his face, turning to examine the room. "And look at all the stuff you've gotten; flowers, cards, balloons, chocolates," she paused glancing back at him. "I ate some," she told him quietly, "I hope you don't mind."

Greg raised an eyebrow, nodding slowly, "Uh huh," he muttered quietly.

"Okay," Sara confessed, "I ate most of them, it was only one box, from Catherine, and I got hungry."

Greg laughed, shaking his head, "I don't care," he grinned, "I don't think the doctors would actually let me eat them anyways."

She smiled back at him, before leaning forward. "Once you're able to keep up with things," she said quietly, "the doctors want to put you on a strict diet…" she laughed mildly at his groan. "Greg, your diet consists of lots of food, in small amounts. It's not all green things."

"Good," Greg commented, rubbing his forehead with his hand. "I don't like the green things."

Sara laughed again, becoming more serious. "You've lost a lot of weight, too much weight. The doctors want you to put on a few pounds before you leave. You've lost over twenty pounds in the last month. That's not healthy."

Greg rolled his eyes as he turned to her, "In case you haven't noticed, I haven't exactly been all that healthy."

Sara nodded in understand, growing quiet at his blunt comment. Greg glanced away, now staring at his hands. "I'm sorry," he stated quietly. "I know you're trying to help, this just isn't easy for me."

"I know," Sara told him, "But I am here," she added. Greg nodded, giving her a small smile.

"I know."

**TBC**


	15. A Little Push

**Yes, I'm back, and I did have fun. Haven't seen the Ocean in a few years now, so it was really beautiful out there, nothing like falling asleep listening to the ocean…or raccoons fighting, that's another story though.**

* * *

**Chapter 15: A Little Push**

The change was noticeable in Greg. Though he still slept most of the day and night, in the times that he was awake, he was more and more coherent, and sounding more like himself with each passing day. He was visited off and on by all the night shift team, including several of the other lab techs, even Hodges who had stopped by, claming to see if he had 'died' yet. Greg could only wonder what exactly went on in his head half the time.

At first, walking, or even moving for that matter was a difficult task. The weeks spent in the hospital with little movement had taken a toll on his muscles, more so in his legs than his arms. When he first started, Greg was not able to walk on his own, and so, opted for a wheelchair that he could maneuver around in under his own power from time to time.

When he was awake, and not being visited, he spent his time working with several doctors that put him through several simple procedures in order to strengthen his muscles. In addition, Greg started to eat solid food again, but they still kept him on a liquid diet at the same time, knowing it was all too soon to take him completely off it quite yet.

This particular day found him sitting at a small table next to his bed, dressed in a pair of sweats and long sleeved shirt Sara had brought for him. The hospital staff had been a little reluctant to let him wear them, but finally decided that it would hurt, especially seeing that he was indeed improving.

Both Sara and Catherine had joined him for his lunch, if it could be called that. After all it was three in the morning, but still it was normal hours for them. Greg looked distastefully at his own dish, up to the hamburgers that Sara and Catherine were eating before laying his fork down.

"I'm done," he announced, pushing his half eaten meal away. He leaned his elbows on the table, dropping his head into his hands as he sighed.

"You've hardly eaten," Sara told him, causing him to roll his eyes. It was about the only thing she ever said to him whenever he ate.

Greg just shrugged, thankful that Catherine hadn't rebuked him as well. "I'm not hungry," he stated simply.

Sara put her hamburger down, frowning at him. "You need to eat something Greg, you hardly eat anything anymore."

He glanced up at her over his hands that were covering his face. "I'm sorry, I just don't have an appetite, especially when they keep drowning me in that gruel stuff. Besides," he fought of a yawn, scratching the back of his head, "I'm tired. This damn medication, I can't stay awake for more than a few hours at a time."

Catherine smiled, intervening before Sara could, "its okay, hospital food isn't all that great. Once you get out of here you'll start eating more."

Greg laughed, rubbing his eyes, "Yeah, I suppose. I'm in here for at least another week though. They just don't want to let me go, I think my charm is getting to them."

Sara was the one to roll her eyes this time, "Greg, they're probably can't stand you anymore, that's why they're letting you out early." She herself, believed that next week was still too early. After all, Greg still couldn't really walk on his own, not more than a few steps before becoming weary. She knew part of that was being stuck in bed for so long.

Greg glanced over at Catherine, shaking his head as he pointed his thumb at Sara, leaning over the table. "Is this what I have to put up with?" he wondered. "You sure I can't stay with you?"

"Sorry Greg, Sara got first dibs," Catherine told him with a shrug, laughing at his mournful expression.

Sara laughed, reaching over to hit him lightly on the head. "I'm not that bad," she informed him.

Greg rubbed the back of his head, faking a pained expression, "No, you're worse."

"Behave you two," Catherine warned, cleaning up her mess. "I've got to get going though; I'm already past my break."

Sara nodded, cleaning up her mess as well, grabbing Greg's tray as she did so. Greg waved a slow goodbye, making long waves with his hand as Sara and Catherine left the room. He was by himself for only a few moments as Sara came back, sitting down next to him.

"You ready to get back in bed?" she asked, offering up a hand.

He shook it off, pushing himself to his feet. "I need to see if I can make it on my own," he told her, already contradicting her protesting. "If I'm going to get better, I need to start doing things on my own."

Sara nodded sullenly after a few moments, backing away as Greg leaned most of his weight against the table. She was more worried than Greg was, she knew, but there was little she could do. After all she had been helping Greg get around for the last week now.

Taking in a deep breath, Greg let go of the table, leaning now on the chairs, waiting to see if his legs would support his weight, and when he was certain, he let go. He had taken only a few steps when he stumbled, Sara was there to catch him, helping him back to the bed.

Shaking his head, Greg leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees as Sara sat next to him. She watched him for a moment, unsure of what to say.

"Thanks," Greg managed to break the silence after a moment, smiling up at her. "I almost had it that time."

Sara raised an eyebrow. "That time?"

Greg only grinned at her, "You're not here all the time you know," he told her quietly.

"Greg you can really hurt yourself, what were you thinking?"

Greg shrugged, looking back at the ground. "I need to be able to do something on my own again. I feel so…helpless, having everyone do everything for me. I just that one thing I can do on my own, you know?"

Sara nodded slowly after a moment, not realizing until now how frustrating it could be. She patted him on the back gently, "You'll get there," she encouraged him, "just give it some time."

Greg lifted his head turning to her, returning her smile. "I know," he said softly. They sat like this for a moment, before Sara leaned in gently. They were only inches away when Greg pulled back, his eyes drifting up the ceiling, muttering to himself. "I'm really tired now…" he told her quietly, lying down. "Catch you later?"

Sara nodded silently, biting her bottom lip as he closed his eyes. "Later…" she said softly after watching him fall asleep, pausing only to cover him with a light blanket before leaving the room.

**TBC**


	16. Endings

**Chapter Sixteen: Endings**

Sara glanced up at the clock on the wall, letting out a low sigh as she tapped her pencil against the table. Where in the world could he be? He was already ten minutes late. She looked up front again, where Grissom was reviewing their latest case, a rapist that was on the loose. He had killed only three of his ten known victims, but still, no one had come up with a good enough description of him yet.

She glanced at the clock again, fifteen minutes now. Of all the days, why did he have to be late today? As if on cue, the door behind them opened and closed quietly, a few people turning around to look to see who it was before looking back up front. Sara didn't need to look to see, she already knew that it was him. Greg slid in the seat next to her, thankful she had chosen the table closet to the door.

"You're late," Sara mumbled quietly, not even looking at him.

"I know," Greg nodded, "I forgot to set my alarm."

"You forgot to set your alarm?" Sara wondered, raising an eyebrow. "You expect me to believe that?"

Greg nodded again. "Yes, I haven't had my alarm set for several weeks now. Give me a break."

"Oh I'll give you a break," Sara whispered back, "Maybe a few fractures too. You have any idea how embarrassing it is to tell everyone that you'd be back today, and then you don't show up?"

"Hey, you two lovebirds, keep it down," Warrick whispered over his shoulder, barely even turning his head.

Both Greg and Sara grew quiet, realizing that over half the room was staring at them even though Grissom was still talking. The meeting finished off in another few minutes, as everyone departed roughly at the same time. A few people stopped to say a quick hi to Greg, but no one stayed too long.

Greg and Sara went their separate ways, not saying anything else to each other as Greg made his way into the DNA lab, stopping at the door. It had been a long time since he had been in here, and for a while, he had thought he'd never see it again. But that wasn't he only reason he stopped. The counter was piled high with envelopes, some even sitting on the floor. Greg let out a long sigh, today was going to be a very long day.

* * *

It was several hours later that Sara finally managed to drop by the DNA lab. She had offered to take some samples there, although there was no chance they would be ran today. That wasn't the only reason she wanted to go, she wanted to see how Greg was handling things. What she didn't expect was the mess.

"Wow," she stated softly, stepping over an empty bin that sat right inside the door. "What happened here?"

Greg poked his head around the counter; he was sitting on the floor, putting things away on the shelf. "That's what I'd like to know," Greg muttered, shaking his head. "Who in the hell did you have cover me while I was gone?"

"Someone named Mace, I believe. I wasn't here all that much. Why?"

"I can't find anything," Greg grumbled, "Half this stuff hasn't even been cleaned, and there are samples sitting up there that are nearly a month old. Did this person do any work at all?"

Sara shrugged, dropping the samples on the first free counter space that she saw. "She was a slow worker, but it's all we could find on such short notice. Hodges helped where he could; he ran the high priority stuff."

"Wait," Greg looked up at her, "Mace was a she?"

Sara nodded, smiling at his expression.

"Did anyone even check this gal's background out?"

"I did," Grissom said, shaking his head as he came in. "What is going on in here."

"This lab is very unorthodox," Greg pointed out, glancing up at him.

Grissom nodded slowly, "So I can see," he mused.

"I'm cleaning," Greg pointed out, "I can't work in a dirty lab, over half this stuff needs to be washed."

"Well, at least DNA won't be slow for a while," Grissom pointed out, smiling at Greg's reaction.

Greg frowned at him, tossing a wad of paper into the garbage. "Thanks, I guess."

"One more thing," Grissom caught his attention again. "What is this?" he asked holding up several bills.

"Hmm," Greg studied it a bit, "It looks like twelve dollars," he answered, going back to his organizing.

"I can see that Greg," Grissom frowned, leaning against the counter. "What was it doing on my desk?"

"Well," Greg answered, his head in the cabinet, "If I remember right, that was our agreement, twelve dollars a month, right?"

Sara hadn't said anything during this time, but she had enough of an idea what it was about.

"I'm not going to make you pay me back Greg," Grissom told him sternly.

"And I'm not going to let you just give me all that money."

"Greg, you still need to get on back on your feet, you're going to have a hard time budgeting your money for a while, you can't be giving me this."

"I can afford twelve dollars a month," Greg argued, still putting stuff away. "I'm not giving in on this, so you might as well accept it."

"Fine," Grissom answered, straightening up. "I'll put it in for your bonus."

Greg looked back up at him. "Bonus? What bonus?"

"The one I'll be giving you."

"That's your money," Greg pointed out.

"Exactly," Grissom answered with a nod, "So I can do what I want with it." He left after that, leaving a bewildered Greg still sitting on the floor.

"He's just stubborn," Greg finally said, closing the cabinet as he stood up.

"And you're not?" Sara asked lightly as he circled the counter, coming to a stop next to her.

"Of course not," he said with a grin, "I'm just annoying."

Sara smiled back at him, shaking her head. "It's good to have you back, lab rat."

"It's good to be back," Greg answered with a small smile. "It really is."

**The End**

* * *

**wdbydoglvr: **

Thanks for all your comments, I'm glad you are enjoying the stories. Always looking forward to hearing from you

**Puddleduck:**

Ah, no kiss in this fic, I thought about it, but wasn't able to really work one in. Sorry, maybe on another ficlet though.

**Jenny70529:**

Glad you like the story. I'm loving yours so far. Always looking for an update. I'm really interested in seeing what happens, esp between Greg and Sara, and what Nick's reaction will be!

**witchazel**

Thank you for the comments, I'm glad you took your time to read all fifteen chapters in one day. That can be a lot to read at one time.

**witchbsword**

Yes, Greg is all better now, after all, I can't hurt him for too long…just for a little bit. Glad you like the story!

**Caroline:**

I'm very honored that you think that. And no, nothing more is going to happen to poor Greg in this story. This story, at the least. But I do have several other stories going on if you want to check them out.

**Destiny Dreamer2:**

No more angst in the story, no. The story must come to an end sometime. But I'm glad you like it still!

**Mellaithwen:**

Greggo is all better…for now. Yeah, the raccoons fighting, that was interesting. We forgot to take our garbage in and they got in a fight over it. Unfortunately is was right under my parent's bed, so it was sort of a major wake up call. Although the next day there were some raccoons somewhere running around on a major sugar high, all they got was ice cream.

**LuvinNickyStokes:**

When I said doctors there, that is what I mean by physical therapists. I wasn't too detailed on it because I wasn't sure how everything worked. I hope that clears up some confusion. Love reading all your comments!

**And of course, thank you to everyone who reviewed, this is just some general feedback. I love reading everyone's reviews, and I thank you for sticking with me through the story!**


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